A Part of Me
by PhantomTF
Summary: A Potions accident splits Snape into two people - a dour professor and an angsty rebellious teen. Can they learn to coexist at Hogwarts in a time of war?
1. Chapter One

Author's note: I'm certain some variation of this concept has been done before, but hopefully at least the story itself will be original enough to please.

This story is AU, replacing the events in Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows. I will make reference to items, events and concepts that came up in Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows – they will be altered to fit into this new storyline, but there are still possible spoilers.

"Snape" is usually used to refer to Professor Snape, and "Severus" is usually used to refer to student Snape.

This story has been a long time in the making, since it was started in 2007, finished in late 2009, but not revised and posted until 2011.

Chapter One

He glided up the aisle with scarcely a noise, his robes making a soft whispering sound as they brushed by the desks. "Two minutes remaining," he murmured in a threatening baritone. Most of the students had not completed their potions, and he allowed himself a private smirk as he watched them scramble to finish on time.

His smirk turned to a sneer of disgust as he caught sight of three heads (one dark-haired, one flame-colored, and one a tousled mess of chestnut curls) bent over a cauldron. He had no real objections to having Granger in his Advanced Potions class, though she was an insufferable know-it-all. However, Potter and Weasley had only received E's in their potion OWLS (privately, he was gobsmacked that they had managed to do even that much) and had no right to even sit in the presence of Outstanding students. But of course the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Be-A-Brat must be coddled and carried along the way to whatever glorious fate awaited after the impending defeat of the Dark Lord, Merlin willing.

It had taken a good deal of wheedling and arm-twisting, with a smidgen of old-fashioned blackmail for good measure, for Snape to relent on his policy of O students only. He was positive that Dumbledore had been a Slytherin in a previous lifetime. He was a bit awed, in spite of his outrage.

"Time's up. Please bring your cauldrons to the front of the room for inspection."

Potter stood up, cauldron full of simmering potion in hand. Today, with an inward shudder of apprehension, he had allowed the students to select which NEWT-level potion they had wanted to brew. The Gryffindor trio-of-doom had brewed a Separating Solution, which was useful for separating potions into their base compounds. Draco and his cronies had created a Youth Serum.

Severus was heading to his desk when a scuffle caught his attention. As usual, the Potter brat was at odds with Malfoy. Malfoy gestured with his wand, causing Potter to trip and spill the contents of his cauldron. The Slytherins snickered. In retaliation, Weasley fired off some kind of hex, causing Malfoy's cauldron to send a geyser of potion rushing out. Both concoctions hit the unfortunate Potions professor within seconds.

Snape froze and remained stock-still. A most unpleasant sensation was nagging at him – it began as fingers tickling his back but quickly mutated. He tried to lunge for the emergency shower, but as he turned he felt a tugging sensation, much like a rubber band that had reached its stretching limit. He bit his lip against a cry of pain and tasted blood. Just as the pain reached its crescendo, it abruptly cut off.

The Potions master stood shuddering and gasping, almost in shock. The infernal children stared at him in mute horror. It gave him some grim satisfaction. Yes, they lived in fear for what he would do next… would he scream and fly into a rage, or would his voice become deathly quiet as he flayed the skin from their bones with his barbed tongue? Then he realized that their gazes were focused somewhere behind him. With a sense of trepidation, he turned.

There was a student behind him. A Slytherin, judging from his robes. But this was no student that he recognized. The boy raised his head, and Snape felt a jolt.

Snape blinked his black eyes. The boy blinked equally black eyes in response. "Who are you?" the professor said slowly, already suspecting the response.

The student frowned. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

There were a few soft gasps. The boy's voice was higher, but there was no doubting that the two voices were remarkably similar.

Snape studied the boy. He was tall and skinny, bordering on bony. He had a waxy, sallow complexion. His hair was black and hung almost to his rounded shoulders. The strands were lank and greasy-looking. The man groaned in despair. "Severus?"

"Yes," the boy replied warily.

Hermione sensibly decided to act. "I'll go fetch Madame Pomfrey."

Snape still appeared in shock. "Better inform Dumbledore as well."


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Madame Pomfrey arrived in short order, dismissing classes and scolding the elder Snape for not washing the potion off himself straightaway. She dragged the two Snapes by the collars into the showerhead that stood in the far corner of the classroom (any Potions master worth their salt knew not to cast spells on unknown substances). They both shivered miserably as the icy cold water cascaded down until their clothes were plastered to their skin. Once the mediwitch was satisfied, she spelled them dry and ushered them to Dumbledore's office.

Hermione was already speaking with the Headmaster when the Snapes entered. "Hello, Severus," the old man said with an especially bright twinkle in his eye. Both tried to greet him at once, then stopped and glared at each other.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" the teen finally grumbled.

"Isn't it obvious?" Professor Snape growled. "There's been a Potions accident."

"But how can that be? One minute I'm working with Lily on Felix Felicis, and the next minute I'm in the same classroom but with a different professor and different students!"

"If what Miss Granger tells me is true, then we indeed have a situation on our hands. Please, Professor, Mister Snape, have a seat." He offered a tray of sugar quills, which both took while trying not to look too interested. Dumbledore suppressed a smile. He knew their secret vice. "Mister Snape, indulge me, please. What is today's date?"

"March twenty-third, nineteen seventy-five," the Slytherin replied.

Professor Snape rubbed his temples as if trying to soothe away an impending headache. "It is indeed March twenty-third, but the year is nineteen ninety-seven. Clearly the accident has manifested a younger version of myself."

"Professor Snape," Hermione spoke up. He was surprised she wasn't waving her hand around in the air. "I believe I can help figure out what happened."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The impending headache was getting worse. "*Thank* you, Miss Granger," he said sarcastically, "but as I am the resident Potions master, I should be able to do just fine on my own."

Dumbledore tsked, smiling merrily. Both Snapes wanted to throttle him. "Come now, Severus, let's hear what she's got to say."

"Ahem. Well, yes." Hermione looked flustered, and the elder Snape felt a pang of savage joy. "Harry, Ron and I were working on a Separating Solution. Well, the color wasn't quite right, and…"

"Get to the point," he hissed between clenched teeth. Young Severus bent his head and looked at the floor, his hair obscuring his face, but the professor was certain he was smirking.

"Ah, yes, anyway, Malfoy tripped Harry, Ron hexed Malfoy, and Malfoy spilled his Youth Serum. Professor Snape was dosed first by the Separating Solution, then by the Youth Serum. It's my theory that our potion caused Professor Snape to begin to separate, and Malfoy's potion caused his counterpart to become a younger version."

"And what are your thoughts, Severus?" Albus asked politely.

Severus made his features as blank as possible. "While Miss Granger's theory is *interesting*, to be certain, it does not seem to be entirely correct. A Separating Solution is designed to separate potions into their base components. The worst it would do to a human is cause a skin rash and blistering."

Hermione shifted nervously. "That's what I was trying to tell you. I think Ron chopped the shrivelfigs too coarsely. Plus he didn't wipe his knife after dicing the flobberworms. And who knows what could have happened once our contaminated potion was mixed with Malfoy's?" Snape grunted noncommittally, and Hermione knew she'd won.

Dumbledore decided to rub salt in the wound. "I have granted Hermione five House points for quick thinking in a crisis, and for helping to analyze the problem."

"It would have been more suitable to take points from Gryffindor for Potter's shocking lack of self-control in instigating the attack on Mister Malfoy."

"Then you will have to deduct points from Slytherin as well for Mister Malfoy's involvement. But since the incident occurred to your personage in your classroom, I will leave the discipline up to you. As for you, Miss Granger, it's nearly time for dinner and I'm sure your friends will be expecting you."

Hermione nodded. "If I think of anything else that was different about the potion, I'll be sure to let you know." She headed for the passageway with the stone gargoyle, her tangled frizz of curls floating behind her.

Silence reigned. "So I'm really a professor?" Severus finally asked.

Professor Snape sighed. "Yes, I am Potions master and Professor. I am also Head of Slytherin House." His younger self looked sufficiently awed.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm sure you two have plenty to discuss, and there will be ample time to get acquainted shortly. However, we must first decide Mister Snape's fate. Since we do not know how long the effects of the potion will last, let us assume that he will be with us for awhile."

Professor Snape spoke up. "My quarters are large, but they are currently furnished for one occupant." He did not look overjoyed with the concept of sharing his living space with an adolescent. "I would need to—"

Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "You do not have to sacrifice the sanctity of your quarters, Severus. It would be best to proceed as if the effects are permanent, and that Mister Snape is a separate entity." Professor Snape looked somewhat ill at the thought of a separate part of him running loose. In turn, young Severus looked disturbed that he may only be a fragment of his older self. "Mister Snape will be treated as any other student in this school. He will be provided with a space in the Slytherin dormitory and will attend classes with the other students."

"But if I've already become a Master-!" Severus protested.

"Professor Snape has the right to that honorary. Although you are certainly one of the most gifted students I have ever seen, you have not yet completed your studies. If there is no way to re-integrate the both of you, then you will need to seek a separate life and gainful employment for yourself. It is best to stay on the path to a successful career that you have already begun at Hogwarts."

Severus glared at the Headmaster from under his curtain of greasy hair. If the elder Snape's memory served correctly, the Shrieking Shack incident had occurred not too long ago, and the boy had nothing but mistrust for Dumbledore. "The Headmaster is right, Mister Snape," he said gruffly, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, which proved to be rather unsuccessful. "It is best to keep things as close to normal as possible, at least until we have more information about the accident and its repercussions."

His younger self heaved a sigh. "Fine. I guess it can't be much worse than my usual routine."

Dumbledore looked satisfied. "I imagine that the two of you will be eager to research this most fascinating Potions reaction. May I make a suggestion, however?" Professor Snape cocked an eyebrow. "Do send a sample to Horace. I'm sure he'll be of immense help. Besides, I believe his retreat from the public eye is beginning to wear on him."

"Professor Slughorn? What's become of him?" It had just dawned on the teen that his Potions professor no longer operated in that capacity.

Snape shot him a sharp look. "He retired quite a number of years ago. However, with recent activities of a certain dark wizard – I will not speak the name but you have likely heard of him – he has gone into hiding."

Albus clapped his hands together. "Well, then. Now that the matter of Mister Snape's accommodations has been settled, it is time to address my rumbling stomach. I have heard a rumor that the house elves have prepared treacle tart for dessert."

The two stood and headed for the door. Just as they were leaving, Dumbledore called after them, "Do not neglect your meals in the interest of research! I will have Mippy drop by with a tray." He chuckled as the door slid closed on a muffled curse.

"Interfering, infuriating, batty old man!" Snape-the-elder grumbled as they both made their way from Dumbledore's office to the dungeons. "You might as well join me for dinner, since the house elf will bring far more than I could ever eat, as usual. I am certain you will not mind delaying the curious gawking of the insipid student body."

"Why are you a schoolteacher? Why are you working for Dumbledore? Why—"

"Great Merlin, why do you ask so many questions?" The boy fell silent and glared at him sullenly. The professor heaved an almost inaudible sigh. "You should know that I am not a kind or friendly person. I am not fond of students. I am not here to mollycoddle you or wipe your nose."

The student snorted. "You must have really lost touch with your youth; otherwise you'd realize I feel the same way. I feel disgust for most of my classmates, since they are mediocre students and pay more attention to Quidditch than their lessons. I've been pretty much fending for myself even before I reached Hogwarts, so I don't need any babying. All I ask is the chance to prove myself."

Snape nodded grudgingly. "Perhaps we may get along after all." He lead the way to his office. His younger self stopped short and gaped at the collection of *things* pickled in jars along the shelves. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "This place is awesome! I can't believe you've actually got grindylow fingers and runespoor heads." He beamed, tracing the shelves with his fingertips, careful not to touch the jars. It was then that full realization hit Professor Snape – this was not the run-of-the-mill snot-nosed brat. This was *him* – the awkward teenager who had always had his head in a book, whose joy in life was inventing new spells and potions. Most students loathed his office, to his secret delight, but his younger self could actually appreciate its contents. He couldn't say he was fond of having a separate self, but it was certainly better, say, then a younger version of Lupin or James Potter.

With a flourish of the elder Snape's wand, graded parchments sorted themselves to piles and floated into a drawer. Stray vials and potions samples rearranged themselves on a nearby rack. "Sit," he commanded. Young Snape seated himself, wincing at the uncomfortable seat. A quick Cushioning charm brought him great relief.

"Now," Professor Snape began, "the first order of business is to discuss—"

"Mippy is bringing food!" A house elf arrived bearing a tray. No sooner had she placed it on the table than she disappeared. She was used to Professor Snape and knew he found house-elf chatter irritating. Albus had sent chicken pot pie, their favorite – guaranteed this was not what was being served at the Great Hall. Just another manipulation from the old man. Both Snapes gladly eschewed further conversation in favor of tucking in.

Once every crumb had disappeared and they were stuffed full, the tray disappeared. Snape was surprised how such a little thing like a full meal could slightly improve his mood. "Mister Snape, we need to discuss the matter of your classes. NEWTS will be coming up next year, so I will help you choose the best classes that will further your career."

"Hopefully I can just pick up more or less where I left off. I've been taking Advanced Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Ancient Runes."

"I'd recommend adding Transfiguration to your schedule."

"Transfiguration! Why? It has absolutely no bearing on my Mastership."

Professor Snape scowled. "Because I have never been good at Transfiguration, and I hate having a weakness in skill."

"Perhaps McGonagall - *Professor* McGonagall," he amended quickly, seeing his older self's displeasure, "will agree to tutor me once a month. But since I have difficulty with Transfiguration, I'll probably have trouble keeping up in a NEWT-level class. I can't imagine how I managed to get an E for that subject in my OWLs in the first place."

"Very well, I see your point. Give me a list of your current subjects and I will make arrangements to enroll you, starting with the next available class."

"Whatever am I going to do for books? I've got nothing but my wand. Come to think of it, if I'm just a part of you, why am I dressed and carrying another copy of your wand? Shouldn't I have appeared naked?" They both shuddered.

"Since your manifestation was caused by an accident, there's still a lot we don't know about the event. I can only guess that you were created using my memories of my youth, including the clothes and wand I recall having."

"Couldn't you have thought of some books too?"

"Believe me, if I could make things appear by thinking of them, I'd have come up with something better. No offense," he said hastily.

"None taken."

Circe, he liked this boy. He was matter-of-fact and had a tough outer skin. What a refreshing change from the lacksidasical students he taught, who did a half-arsed job and then had the nerve to cry that life wasn't fair when he deducted house points. "Wait here," he instructed. "I'll see what I can dig up for you." The boy shrugged, turning his attention back to the fascinating contents of the office.

The professor finally returned with a miniature trunk in the palm of his hand. "I found my old trunk – no idea what's really in it, since I never finished emptying it out after graduation. I managed to dig up some of my old uniforms from Seventh Year. You may need to do a bit of a shrinking charm – shouldn't hurt, since there's been some extensive lengthening charms cast on them. The house elves were able to scrounge up some extra pairs that have been abandoned as well. Most of the books in here are mine. If you damage Mum's old Advanced Potions book with my notes in it, I will skin you alive."

"Is there anything else I'm going to need?"

"I was not able to get you a Herbology book – they changed the edition since I graduated. I will mention the issue to Madame Sprout, and hopefully she can locate an extra copy. The supplies in here will only last for a few days, but I will work on getting you more items in the meantime."

"Um…" the teen looked awkward, ducking his head to stare at the floor. "You wouldn't have a decent pair of smalls, would you?" His cheeks flamed scarlet, and both remembered the painful humiliation regarding their shabby underpants by James Potter.

"I've included a few pairs of my own. You'll need to shrink them a bit, but they should be comfortable. They are black silk – a gift from Lucius, as a matter of fact."

"Luc's good with things like that." Although Lucius had already graduated when the "pants" incident occurred, word had reached him and he had very kindly sent a large supply of expensive underwear to his protégé. The Snape family had little money, and the few pence that his mother could wrest from his father and turn to knuts were usually spent on Potions ingredients or books. Clothes and food took second place. Young Severus had had a thriving mini black market in Potions trade, but it wasn't enough to cover all his basic needs.

They talked a bit more, about how the staffing had changed since his school days and differences in the curriculum. Snape was able to draft a rough schedule for his young charge, so Severus could attend classes the very next day. They were startled by a peal from the clock on the wall, whose hands were rapidly approaching 'curfew'.

"Come," Professor Snape said briskly. "Time to get you settled." He studied his younger self thoughtfully as they headed for the Slytherin dorm. "Mister Snape. I will give you some advice. It will no doubt sound like criticism, but please do not wilt into a paroxysm of angst – I know how teenagers get. You must stop slouching and keep your head held high. I know how tempting it is to try to blend in with the walls, but it also makes you look like a target. As long as you look like you have confidence and determination, others will assume that you do." He gently adjusted the Slytherin's posture until the boy was standing straight and tall. "Very good. Now observe me." The professor strode determinedly down the hall. Several second-year Slytherins dashed down the hall, squeaked when they saw his menacing stalking, and darted through the portrait hole.

Severus admired his older self's presence. The billowing robes were part of the persona, but Professor Snape was right – it was all in how he carried himself. Perhaps the Gryffindors would not pick on him so much if he didn't look so meek. The professor had already helped him more than anyone else in this cursed school ever had.

"Shall we?" Snape gestured to the portrait. "The password is Salazar."

Severus nodded at his Head of House and preceded him into the Common Room. The few students that were still gathered around the fire jumped up and stood at attention. Snape nodded to them curtly as he ushered his charge up the stairs to the Sixth-Year boys' room. An extra bed had already appeared, complete with sheets and covers, courtesy of the house elves.

The Sixth-Year boys reacted much as the students in the Common Room did – they dropped whatever they were doing and lined up. Severus was very impressed – they had certainly never done this for Slughorn. Professor Snape must inspire a healthy dose of fear and respect.

"I'm certain you have all heard of the potions accident that occurred in my classroom earlier today." He directed an evil glare toward a blond-headed boy, who cringed slightly. "This is Mister Severus Snape." The boys shot curious glances at each other, barely able to restrain their curiosity. "He will be staying for an indeterminable length of time. Normally I would tell you to welcome him, but I'm certain he would greatly prefer being left alone. If you treat him poorly, he will make you regret it."

He pulled the miniature trunk from his pocket, placed it on the floor, and enlarged it to its usual size. "If you are in need of additional supplies, do let me know. The others will advise you to my office hours. Do not disturb me after curfew unless you are maimed or dying. I will see you tomorrow in Advanced Potions." He turned on his heel and marched away. Severus watched the teaching robes trailing behind his Head of House. The man certainly had style.

He had the creepy sensation he was being watched. Sure enough, when he turned around he felt every eye in the room upon him. Ignoring them all, he knelt and dug through his trunk. He shoved everything aside, getting down to the bottom, until he finally found what he sought. His nose wrinkled – twenty-year-old cigarettes would be beyond nasty, but he was desperate. After the crazy events of the past few hours, he needed something to calm his nerves. He put one in his mouth and tapped the end with his wand, ignoring the shocked gasps of his dorm-mates. He took a deep breath, grimacing. A jet of water shot from the ceiling, extinguishing the fag dangling from his lips. A steady stream of swear words issued from the young Slytherin's mouth. The others were impressed – some weren't even in English.

"Sorry, mate," a stringy-looking boy said. "Professor Snape won't let us smoke in the dorms. He said if he ever caught us with a fag, he'd make us eat it while it was still lit."

A huge, hulking boy looked shocked. "I can't believe you *smoke*. Does it taste good?"

Severus snorted. "Tastes like crap. He's right to keep you from starting. I've tried to quit before but nearly went mad from nicotine withdrawal. But he doesn't have to ruin my bloody fag either." He noticed the blond boy. "You must be a Malfoy. Are you related to Lucius?"

The boy preened. "I'm Draco. Lucius is my father."

"He procreated. Heaven help us all." Draco's smirk faded. "You're just as vain as he was, too. At least you have the good sense to keep your hair short. Always told old Luc he looked like a girl." The others tittered, while Draco looked peeved. "Aw, come off it. Lucius always laughs when I tell him that. If he doesn't take offense, I don't see why you should."

Apparently accepting Snape's sort-of apology, Draco continued on as if nothing had happened. "This is Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, and Blaise Zabini." They stared at him. He stared back.

Deciding that the staring match was boring, Severus sat upon his bed and buried his nose in a thick tome he had withdrawn from his trunk. It seemed to be a very advanced compendium on Defense – topics that probably weren't even taught at the NEWT level.

Seeing that Snape was not going to be more forthcoming, the others eventually lost interest. After completing their various school assignments, they began to prepare for bed. Snape finally closed the book and fished his nightclothes from the trunk. They were threadbare and washed-out looking. "Did Professor Snape have to give you remnants from the lost-and-found?" the stringy boy – Nott – asked.

"Yeah," he said shortly, not looking up from the nightshirt. It was technically true, though this particular item of clothing actually had been his.

"Oh, that sucks," Zabini said.

Snape also withdrew the adult-size underwear; then disappeared behind the curtains of his bed to change. Apparently he was the modest sort. He neatly folded his clothes and put them aside for the house elves to launder.

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, he heard a voice whisper softly, "Psst. He wears boxers. You owe me five galleons."


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The next day, the Slytherin sixth-year boys heard their new roommate grumbling behind the curtains. Snape changed into a bathrobe under cover of his bedside curtains, then slunk off to the showers. He emerged a few minutes later, clean but with lank and limp hair. Apparently even shampoo couldn't do much to save it.

Once dressed, he then gathered his rucksack and headed out the door. When Draco and his cronies reached the Great Hall, Snape was nowhere in sight. A few minutes later, he came through the door, clutching an equally thick book than the one from last night. This one bore a small sticker indicating it was a library book.

"Snape! Come sit here!"

The teen looked at Draco with a hint of surprise; then trudged over, dragging his heavy bag. He helped himself to breakfast and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth with one hand while holding the massive book open with the other. The book provided a convenient shield from the curious stares and whispers of the other students.

"What classes are you in?"

Snape apparently accepted that Draco wasn't going to leave him alone. He pulled out his list of classes and handed it over without interrupting his meal.

"We're in Potions and Defense together. I'll save you a seat."

"Okay."

The large clock boomed out the hour. "Crap, gotta go!" Draco yelled, grabbing his bag. Crabbe and Goyle shuffled after him. Snape grabbed his book and headed in the opposite direction.

They did not meet up again until Potions. Draco patted the seat next to him as Severus walked in. Zabini looked put out. Apparently Snape had usurped his seat. The Slytherin sat down and pulled out his Advanced Potions book, flipped to a page, and promptly began making notes in the margins.

Draco craned his neck. "What are you doing?"

Severus did not look up. "Making improvements." He glanced pointedly at the large desk at the front of the room. "Where's the professor?"

Blaise snickered. "He likes to make an entrance."

Sure enough, the exact second that classes were to begin, the door banged open and Professor Snape strode in. "Today we will be making the Ptolemus Serum. Do observe closely. If the ingredients are not properly prepared – in the proper manner, proper quantities, and proper order – the potion will explode. Needless to say, this will result in a failing grade for today's exercise. Rather than working in teams, you will each be brewing separate potions." He glanced scornfully at his small class. "I require an assistant for this lesson. Mister Snape, come up here. Bring your knife."

The professor lectured on the properties and purpose of the potion. He then gestured to the cabinet in the corner. "Gather your ingredients and take them back to your seats." Once that was finished, Snape gestured to his younger self. "The wheatgrass roots must be finely chopped. Take care to not tear them. Mister Snape, please demonstrate." With a flash of his knife, the young Slytherin quickly and efficiently chopped the roots. "The boiled doxy eggs must be shelled. Do not puncture the inner skin of the egg, or its contents will prematurely leach into the potion and cause it to explode." Mister Snape picked up an egg, which was the size of a pea. He lightly tapped the egg with the flat side of his blade until fine cracks appeared. He pulled the shell fragments away from the egg with amazing speed, until he was left with a perfectly bare sphere. "In this particular potion, timing is crucial, so I advise preparing your ingredients ahead of time. You may begin now."

Severus returned to his seat and began industriously preparing the potion. He finished far sooner than anyone else. Professor Snape nodded approvingly. "Have you added an agent to speed the reaction?"

"I used a few grains of anise seed."

"Very good. I will award extra credit. Since you completed your assignment early, you may start on an independent project of your own."

Severus looked like he'd won the lottery. He fairly floated to the Potions cabinet. Meanwhile, Hermione was nearly done – her potion was perfect, but she looked mutinous. Apparently departing from the book's instructions went against the grain.

A loud explosion sounded. Ron slumped in his seat, morosely staring at the blackened mess. Snape directed a sneer in his direction. Hermione looked aggravated but helped him clean up the mess anyway. Meanwhile, she almost forgot to remove her own potion from the fire, causing it to congeal slightly. Harry's potion was entirely the wrong color. Draco and Blaise did fairly well, but nothing spectacular.

"You could've shared the secret of the anise seeds with us!" Blaise grumbled as class was dismissed.

"Don't mind him," Draco said soothingly. Severus got the feeling that Draco was up to something, no doubt trying to kiss up. "Could you help me with my cutting technique sometime?"

"I suppose."

"How'd you get so good at it, anyway?"

Snape's face became much more animated. "Oh, I've been handling a knife ever since I learned to walk. Mum was always very good at Potions. You'd be surprised at how the little things, like the way the blade is held, can influence a potion."

Malfoy looked pleased at finally having found a way to get the teen to open up. The two walked together towards their Defense class, with Blaise trailing, acting as if he wasn't listening in. They were joined in short order by Crabbe and Goyle. "Sounds like your mum taught you a lot."

"Oh yeah. Not just Potions either. All kinds of spells, including hexes and jinxes. I've made up a few of my own too. I'm glad she didn't believe in that rubbish about not having wizards do magic before they get to school."

Draco snickered. His parents had exactly the same attitude. "What about your father? Was he good at potions too?"

Snape clenched his jaw, his expression hardening. "He's an arse. I don't want to talk about him." To change the subject, he asked, "How's your dad been? Last I remember, Abraxus was trying to get him in touch with some high-profile Ministry contacts."

It was Draco's turn to look uncomfortable. He pulled Snape into an alcove. "Father's in Azkaban," he whispered.

Severus looked shocked. "For what? Using too much conditioner?"

Goyle giggled. "What are you laughing for, stupid?" Draco sneered. "Your father's in jail too." He lowered his voice. "Our fathers were caught supporting the Dark Lord. It's all stupid Potter's fault, of course. But just you wait. Our lord does not forget loyalty. He'll break them out sooner or later."

Snape frowned. "But if your fathers are in jail, wouldn't that mean they failed? If this lord rewards loyalty, surely he will also punish failure."

Malfoy suddenly didn't look so cocky. "Come on, let's just get to class."

Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by a nondescript man by the name of Kirby. Severus was very disappointed. After having just been spoiled by an excellent Potions teacher (in his humble opinion), he had hoped to enjoy his other favorite subject. The man made defensive spells sound as exciting as watching paint dry.

He was already familiar with the Defense text, so he used the opportunity to sneak glances at Potter. Apparently this was not the same Potter that he knew, but it might as well have been. The face, the glasses, the walk, the smartarse attitude…. It was James all over again.

Potter must have sensed something, for he turned around to stare at Snape. The Slytherin was pierced by blazing green eyes. Lily's eyes. It didn't take a Master to figure out whose child that was. Damn it all to hell. James had spawned… with *her*. His opinion of Lily's intelligence was totally shot. He couldn't deny how much it stung. Potter narrowed his eyes, and Severus slipped his hand into his pocket, reaching for the handle of his wand. Professor Kirby walked by. Potter turned to face the front of the classroom, and Snape allowed the tension to release from his frame. Draco watched the exchange with relish, elbowing Crabbe and Goyle.

On their way out the door, Potter bumped into him. He supposed it could have been an accident, but the way the Gryffindor glared at him was anything but friendly. "Watch it, Snape," he spat.

"You're one to talk, Potter," he spat in return. "You bumped into me. Rather klutzy of you."

Potter looked like he wanted to say more, but Ron dragged him away. "Come on, mate. He's not worth it."

"Muggle-loving prat," Draco sneered.

Snape started down the large staircase winding its way down to the dungeons. The other Slytherins trailed behind, talking to each other and not paying him much mind. On the way down, a haughty brunette from Hufflepuff laughed to her friends, "Good lord, he's ugly! Nose might as well be a beak." Her laughter was cut short as she tripped, tumbling the rest of the way down the stairs. Her friends gasped and ran after her.

"Awfully clumsy. Must be catching," Severus remarked calmly as he stepped over her battered body. The rest of the onlookers watched him in shocked silence, not daring to say a word.

The student body thought that a young Snape would be an ideal target for their grudge against the elder professor. From the sudden string of "accidents" that followed (one student had his tie singed; another found himself nearly cut in two by his belt), they learned to leave him well enough alone.

Professor McGonagall cornered him after yet another incident. She had actually witnessed it but couldn't definitively prove that he was the cause. "Just watch your step, young man," she warned him sternly. "Students who use jinxes to harm others will be severely punished."

His antics had not gone unnoticed in his own house. That night, he sat in a plush armchair in the Common Room with his feet propped on an ottoman, head bent over a parchment, quill scratching furiously. A fat hand grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to pull him out of his seat. He looked up angrily to see Crabbe's expression change from cross to horrified. "Uh, sorry," he muttered and quickly backed away. After that, Severus kept his wand prominently displayed in his left hand.

He headed upstairs, where he surprised Zabini and Nott playing a card came featuring lewd playing cards. They threw him a nervous glance as he came in. "I'm not going to snitch on you, if that's what you think," he grumbled. "If you're getting into trouble, that's *his* problem, not mine."

Malfoy stared at the book he was carrying. It was obviously a book on the Dark Arts. "Say, isn't that from the Restricted Section?"

"Yeah."

"They let you check that out?"

A slight smirk curled the thin lips. "No."

"Blimey!" Goyle exclaimed. "You know how to nick books from the Restricted Section?"

Before he could answer, a Seventh-Year appeared in the doorway. "Snape. Got any idea why my potion didn't work? I'm supposed to write a roll of parchment about it but I don't have a clue."

Relieved at the change of topic, he asked the upperclassman a few questions about his potion. "You threw in the boomslang skin too soon. It's supposed to come *after* the lacewing flies."

"Thanks!"

Draco eyed him thoughtfully. "You already done with your Potions homework?"

"Yeah."

"Would you give me the answers? I'll make it worth your while."

Snape smirked. "Alright." He pulled out a quill and a fresh roll of parchment. Malfoy grinned slyly at his comrades, who looked dumfounded. Snape wasn't quite what they had been expecting. The Malfoy heir sauntered around the room for a few minutes, then came up behind Snape's chair. He squawked in anger, grabbing the parchment. "Hey! These are the wrong answers!"

Severus grinned. It was almost frightening to see. "I told you I'd give you the answers. Never said they were the *right* answers. If you can tell the difference, then you're perfectly capable of doing the assignment on your own."

"Prat."

"Ponce." He stuck out his tongue, and Draco couldn't help but laugh. Severus had a really odd sense of humor, but he could come to like it. Father hadn't told him many details about Snape, but he had told Draco to keep an eye out for powerful and clever friends. That's why he had tried to befriend Harry Potter, and look how *that* turned out. Father had been right about another thing, too. Snape was one in a million, and truly brilliant wizards usually didn't Sort into Slytherin.

The next day, Severus found himself running to Greenhouse Seven. He slipped inside and saw to his disappointment that Madame Sprout had already begun the lesson. "Come in, come in, have a seat," she said, bustling towards him. He grabbed the first seat available, which was right next to an awkward-looking boy who shrank away.

"Sorry, ma'am. I was trying to get a textbook. No one has the new edition."

"Never you mind that. Mister Longbottom will be happy to share his." His seatmate looked anything but.

Snape pulled the textbook to the middle of the table. Longbottom whimpered and bit his lip. "What is your *problem*?" he asked irritably. The boy's tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. With a hiss of exasperation, Snape bent his head over the book.

"Sorry," Longbottom muttered, staring at his desk.

"Not like I'm going to bite… no matter what you've heard." Snape grabbed the empty pot on the table and began filling it with enriched dirt. Longbottom forced himself to move, clumsily shoveling dirt in as well. Once he got started, his whole demeanor changed. His moves became smoother and more confident. He was in his element.

"Are… are you really a part of Professor Snape?" he asked as they kneaded the earth together, preparing it for the plant shoots.

"Apparently, though I don't feel any different. So I guess I'm just his younger self." He saw his companion flinch. He usually didn't like talking to other students, but this one intrigued him. "You're afraid of him?"

"Oh yes," Longbottom said ruefully. "I'm really bad at Potions. I'd always blow something up or make some sort of mess."

"No wonder you're afraid of Professor Snape. I bet you drove him spare!"

Longbottom chuckled, finally seeing the humor. "I probably did!"

Snape shook his head, watching Longbottom don dragonhide gloves, gently handling the Flaming Snapdragon seedling and placing it into its new pot. "You seem to be much better at Herbology."

"Yes." A flush crept up his neck. "I hope you don't think I'm bragging, but Madame Sprout says she wouldn't be surprised if I took over her job."

"Slughorn said the same thing to me, and I guess it happened."

"Who's Slughorn?"

"He was Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House when I was a student."

"To be honest, it's really weird seeing and talking to a younger version of Professor Snape. He's so creepy it seems impossible to me that he was ever young."

Snape smirked. "Like I just emerged from a cauldron one day?"

"Yeah." Longbottom gave him a sidelong glance, apparently checking to see if he had taken offense.

"Personally, I don't see how you can be good at Herbology and bad at Potions. They practically go hand-in-hand." Severus put on his own well-worn gloves and potted another Snapdragon, ignoring its attempts to incinerate his hands.

"How so?"

"Well, I guess it's possible to be good at Herbology and bad at Potions, but not vice-versa. Magical plants are often key ingredients in potions, and it's important to know how and when to harvest them, and then how to preserve them, if need be."

"Wow. I never thought of that before."

They worked in silence, trying to pot the plants without getting too badly burned. "Time's up, students!" Madame Sprout finally announced, clapping her hands together. "Next class we will explore how to feed and fertilize these plants. Be certain to read the next two chapters in the textbook!"

Snape gathered his belongings and was gone in an instant. Neville stared at his retreating back in bemusement.

Severus dropped by the Potions classroom after classes. "Excellent timing," the professor remarked. "I was just analyzing a sample of the potion involved in our accident. Ironically, I am attempting to use a Separating Solution, but since it was part of the original potion, I'm getting some mixed results." Severus eyed various test tubes – some of them contained clear samples of individual ingredients, but others held bizarre concoctions. One was a sludge-like grey.

Young Snape's eyes lit up. He liked nothing better than a thorny Potions problem. "Can I take a look?" he asked eagerly.

"Be my guest." Snape sat behind his desk and grabbed a sheaf of parchments and an inkpot. A bloodbath of red ink soon appeared on the hapless students' essays.

They worked in companionable silence, the scratching of the student's quill making notes about the potion a counterpart to the professor's grading.

"How have your classes been going?" the professor asked.

Severus did not miss a beat as he passed the contents of one test tube from one beaker to another. "Not too bad. Draco's a bit full of himself, but he's all right. I'm used to that from Lucius, and since Draco's the same age as me, I can tell him to stuff it if I need to." His older self bent his head to conceal a smirk. "Potter doesn't seem to be much different from his father, but at least the other loser Marauders weren't there. Granger's hand seems to be afflicted with a permanent Wingardium Leviosa spell." The professor snorted. "Sat next to Longbottom in Herbology. Boy seems to be terrified of you."

"As well he should be. I greatly doubted if either of us would survive the horrors his cauldron brewed." For a time, the only sound in the room was of quills scratching and potions ingredients sloshing. "Are your classmates causing you any difficulties?"

"Some, but it's nothing I can't handle. As long as they don't gang up like our favorite band of Gryffindor thugs, I think I'll be all right."

"If you run into something that you can't handle, do let me or your fellow Slytherins know right away. I have implemented several changes since Slughorn was Head of House. Slytherins stand up for each other, no matter their personal feelings. The other houses are eager to tear us down, so we must present a united front."

"Thanks, sir," Severus said. He knew that Professor Snape was serious. It was nice to have a professor truly on his side – even Slughorn and Dumbledore never did anything much to stop the bullying he had experienced.

Now that he finally had found someone who recognized his talent and abilities, he was reluctant to leave his presence. "I suppose I'd better get going on my Defense homework. Can I come back soon?"

Professor Snape gave him a look that was almost kind. "For you, my door is always open."


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The following week found Snape in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room. As usual, his nose was buried in a thick, heavy book. It was after curfew, so most of the students were already in bed. Only Sixth- and Seventh-years were still awake.

He cringed as peals of laughter rang out. Pansy was practically sitting in Draco's lap. She made a face at him when she noticed him staring.

He scowled in return. "I simply can't *stand* girls who giggle!"

"Don't let him talk that way to me, Draco!" she protested, swatting his chest.

"Sorry, Pans, I can't fault him there." She flounced away in a huff, squeezing next to Millicent on the sofa.

Draco noticed the book that Snape was reading. "Say, is that another Dark Arts book from the Restricted Section?"

Severus grunted noncommittally, turning the page.

Nott knelt at the boy's feet to read the title, practically sitting on top of the scuffed and worn shoes. "It's about demons."

"Really?" Pansy had forgotten all about the slight.

The Slytherins all gathered around Snape in a circle. Severus finally slammed the book shut. "You're all acting like Thestrals around rotten meat. What do you want?"

Zabini gestured at the book. "Do you know how to raise a demon?"

Snape looked wary. "Yeah. Why?"

"Do it. I want to see," Draco demanded imperiously.

"No. I tried once before, and it went badly wrong. Part of the wall over there had to be repainted." He gestured, but no one else could see anything wrong with it. If it had been repaired, the job had been a good one.

"So just what can go wrong with demon-raising? It's not as if they teach that in Defense."

Snape heaved a put-upon sigh, setting aside his book and assuming his lecturing pose. "Raising the demon itself is actually easy. That's the scary part. Any fool can accidentally summon one. The purpose of summoning a demon is to trap it until you can force it to do your will. However, if the demon is too strong or the wrong one is summoned, it can escape from the netherworld and start killing. It's rather difficult to return a demon to the nether realms once it's fully exited."

A pretty Seventh-year girl exclaimed, "I'd love to see a demon-raising! Severus, please?"

"No way! Slughorn gave me detention for a week the last time I tried. Not to mention the fact that the demon actually ate my shoes."

Draco thought back to his father's lessons. When in doubt, bribe. "I've got a brand-new pair of dragonhide gloves that Mum sent. They're dyed black, and it's not really my color. I bet they'd suit you much better."

Snape stared at the wall. It looked like he had completely spaced out, but Draco recognized a great mind at work. "Very well. I suppose I could use a new pair." The pair erupted in cheers. Severus scowled and cast a Muffliato spell so that no curious underclassmen would hear and come snooping.

He consulted the book. "First we need to draw a protective circle. This will allow anyone outside the circle to communicate with the demon, but the demon will not be able to escape unless it overpowers the circle caster." Several Slytherins waved their wands and hastily cleared an area of bare stone floor. Snape held his wand aloft, pointed at the floor, and very carefully traced a circle in the air. A black ring appeared on the stones.

He rummaged in his rucksack and withdrew a bit of colored chalk. "We must next draw runes. These runes will connect our world to the netherworld and draw the demon upward." A few Seventh-Years who were taking Ancient Runes stepped forward to help. "Be careful that you make them *exactly* how they appear in the book, or Merlin knows what will happen."

Once that was done, he instructed them to gather around the circle, wands pointed at the center. He took his place at the head of the circle (if there was such a thing). He began to chant, and the others dutifully repeated. All took care to carefully enunciate the words. Severus' previous demon-raising had gone badly wrong when he mispronounced the name and a much larger and dangerous demon had appeared.

At the end of the incantation, he drew his wand down in a quick slashing motion, and a dark semicircle appeared suspended in the air. The split gradually widened. Behind it was black nothingness, with occasional shadowy shapes wriggling or whizzing by. A faint stench of sulfur began to permeate the room.

A *something* began to emerge from the crack. There were a few scattered gasps. It was a grey shadowy being, translucent, with small curling horns above its ears. It was not much larger than a rather fat cat. "Demon, I summon you to do my bidding!" Severus spoke imperiously. The demon stared at him with lidless yellow eyes. If Snape was unnerved, he did not show it. "Okay, what do we want it to do?"

Dead silence. They had never thought past trapping the demon.

"Let's send it to torment the Gryffindors!"

"Have it go get some firewhiskey!"

"Make it tell us the secrets of the underworld."

"We should sic him on Peeves!"

Severus snorted in derision, hiding the fact that he too had no idea what to ask of it… at least, nothing that wouldn't involve permanent detention. "Demon, I command you to…" He broke off, frowning in concentration. The rift was getting bigger. That just couldn't be good.

The smaller demon was sucked through with a distorted yelp. Something else was coming through. Something much bigger. "Oh hell," Severus whispered softly. This demon was easily the size of a cow, with horns that corkscrewed down the side of his head and fiendishly glowing red eyes.

"Umm… Severus? That's not good, is it?"

"No, it's not good."

Several students began to scream as they backed away. Many tripped over various pieces of furniture. "No, you fools! Stay in formation and fortify the circle!"

The demon made a sudden lunge, and Snape lifted his wand. The creature hit an invisible barrier and rebounded. Severus grimaced; the aftershocks had traveled down his arm. "Damn you; get back here and help with the circle!" The others were too busy panicking to be of any help.

Nott grabbed Draco by his hair and dragged him over. "Get your wand out, you coward!" he yelled. Trembling, Draco pulled out his wand, only to drop it.

The door to the common room opened with a loud bang. Relief was palpable as Professor Snape swept into the room like an angry bat. "Just what is going on here?" he demanded in a quietly furious voice.

The students pointed with shaking hands. Their gesture proved to be unnecessary, as the demon made another rush against the barrier. "Ah, I see. Demon-raising, isn't it?"

Severus grimaced as he kept his wand aloft. He did not bother with a reply.

The professor picked up the library book on the table. "Madame Pince has been looking for this. I'll hold onto it for safekeeping until it can be returned."

The young Slytherin cried out as the demon battered his shield once more. "I could use a little help here!"

Professor Snape waved his wand and a chair whizzed over. He seated himself and conjured a container of popcorn. "Do continue."

Severus shot him a horrified look. It was full of shock and indignation. He felt abandoned.

The professor looked at him with fathomless black eyes. "Surely you planned for this eventuality. I'm certain that you would not have proceeded otherwise." The teen swallowed hard, either in anger or nervousness. "Mister Malfoy, Mister Nott, Mister Thompson. Take positions across from each other around the circle and reinforce its energies." They stepped forward and took their places. "Now, Mister Snape, please do address the rather insignificant issue of the demon trying to tear its way into our Common Room."

Severus straightened, setting his jaw in angry determination. He was to handle that abomination all on his own? Very well. He would.

Now that the circle had been stabilized, he was free to go on the offense. "Reducto!" he commanded, and the tear around the demon contracted, holding it in place. It could not enter any further, and nothing could squeeze by it.

He threw hex after curse at it. Some rebounded and sent dangerous energies careening through the protective shield. Some seemed to bother the demon no more than an irritating gnat. Most disturbingly, some spells the demon seemed to actually digest. In desperation, he yelled "Sectumsempra!" Since the demon was part shadow, the majority of its body was unaffected, but a horn was shorn off and fell to the floor. Seeing its prized horn so mutilated, it roared in rage. Everyone in the room quaked in fear. Even Professor Snape looked somewhat alarmed. "Oh, dear," he sighed.

Severus blinked. He didn't know if it was just an offhand exclamation or a deliberate hint, but he suddenly had an idea. Pointing his wand directly between the creature's eyes, he cried, "Expecto Patronum!" White light fairly exploded from the wand tip, coalescing into a running doe, who charged the demon. With an enraged gibbering cry, it pulled backward into the rip. Once the obstruction had been removed, the rip in netherspace sealed itself.

Severus sat down on the floor with an abrupt bump, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Malfoy, Nott and Thompson (a Seventh-Year with curly brown hair) lowered their wands and looked uncertain. Whispers filled the room. "He cut off its horn!" "A full Patronus! Did you see?" "I heard only Potter can do that." "Nah, a few others can. They learned it in that silly club."

Professor Snape stood and the chair obediently slid into a corner. "I believe that is yours," he remarked. Numbly, Severus knelt and picked up the severed horn. Even holding it gave him the creeps. "Twenty points for Slytherin for keeping a cool head and using ingenuity to defeat an opponent. I do hope it is not necessary to discuss how that creature came to be in my Common Room in the first place." The boy felt relieved. Snape hadn't abandoned him; he had just let him clean up his own mess and learn from the experience.

He held the Dark Arts book aloft. "Books will no longer liberate themselves from the Restricted Section. You will be allowed access to the Restricted Section only when accompanied by Madame Pince, and you cannot withdraw any books without specific permission from a professor." The boy looked mutinous.

The professor scowled at the gathered students. "Tonight has been a very graphic example of why it is not a good idea to experiment with Dark Magic. Mister Snape, I had hoped that the last time would have brought the message home. Tell me; are you eager to face another demon anytime soon?"

"No, sir," he muttered, glaring at the floor.

"Very well. Since your thirst for forbidden knowledge has apparently not been slaked, I will allow you and only you to peruse my private library. You may do so only in my presence and will not be allowed to remove any books from my quarters. You may use a transcribing charm to transfer key passages to parchment if they are required for schoolwork."

The teen's eyes shone as all rebellious thoughts vanished. "May I? Oh, *thank* you, sir!"

"I trust any remaining books from the Restricted Section will find their way back by tomorrow morning?"

"I'm certain they will, sir."

"See that they do. And if another demon sees fit to visit, I may just let it eat you." His voice was gruff, but he seemed amused despite himself. Severus gave an almost-smile in return.

"Do see to it that my Common Room is straightened up."

"We will, sir!" Malfoy exclaimed, wanting a share of the recognition. Snape didn't even look at him twice as he exited. Once he left, Draco gestured to Crabbe and Goyle. "Well, get going!"

Snape glared at the tow-headed boy. "I want my gloves."


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Severus was bored. That wasn't an unusual occurrence. He often found certain classes boring. They were so far behind him that it was laughable. However, he had always looked forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts. But this time the class had proved to be a big disappointment. There were whispers that the position was cursed, and he was starting to believe it. Why else would they have hired this lameo?

He fiddled with his quill and stared out the window. Professor Kirby seemed knowledgeable enough but his lectures never deviated from the textbook, which Snape had read cover-to-cover before the term started (fortunately for him, the same textbook was still in use). He might as well just take the bloody NEWTS now, since he wasn't going to learn anything new from this dolt.

"Mister Snape." His eyes swiveled to the Defense professor, who stood at the front of the classroom. "If you could join us for a moment." Of course, there was the obligatory titters from the morons who were so thick they probably couldn't even understand the basics of what Kirby was teaching. "What is the most effective spell for deflecting an attack?"

He barely looked up from his desk. "The Reverto Impetus charm would be ideal."

Professor Kirby made a tsking sound, shaking his head. "That is unfortunately not a correct response. The Shield Charm, used with the incantation 'Protego', is the recommended spell to use."

Severus frowned deeply. "The Shield Charm is an option, but it is not the best option. Although the Shield Charm defends against attack, it does nothing to prevent further attacks. The Reverto Impetus charm, however, will cause the attacking spell to rebound against its caster. Occasionally the Shield Charm will do this, but it's more a consequence of luck than purpose."

Professor Kirby looked cross. "The Defense textbook clearly recommends the Shield Charm as the way to deflect attacks."

Severus ground his jaw, breathing hard through his nose. "I am aware of what the textbook says, sir. I can quote the text verbatim – page 203, paragraph 1, 'The Shield Charm can be used to protect against magical spells. When properly cast, a magical barrier will protect its caster and deflect any hexes or curses.' However, the Shield Charm is only as good as its caster. It is a good defensive spell, but one must also maintain the shield while attacking offensively. Many wizards have difficulty maintaining both. A steady barrage of aggressive spells may serve to wear down the shield, so unless the source of attack is addressed, the wizard will eventually find himself defenseless."

"I am afraid I disagree, Mister Snape."

"I apologize then, sir," Snape replied, trying (and failing miserably) to not sound accusatory. "If you had requested me to provide the textbook-recommended method to deflect an attack, I would have recommended the Shield Charm. But you asked me the best method, and according to the Ultimate Compendium of Defensive Magic, page 712, paragraph 4, the Reverto Impetus charm is superior."

"I do not care for your tone, Mister Snape. Ten points from Slytherin."

"But sir!" Hermione exclaimed. "He's right. The Ultimate Compendium is considered to be *the* source for advanced Defensive magic. And it *does* recommend the Reverto Impetus charm. Personally, if I were being attacked, I would prefer it over the Shield Charm."

"I did not ask for your opinion, Miss Granger. We are only discussing the contents of this textbook. Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn. Now, unless there are any other questions on the merits of the Shield Charm, we will move on to other defensive spells. Reverto Impetus is not in the curriculum."

Hermione shrugged and looked at Snape apologetically as Professor Kirby turned back to the blackboard. He gaped at her. Did she really just stand up for him?

He spent the rest of the class period trembling with repressed rage. He felt chilled to the bone. The only thing that stopped him from throwing an all-out fit and storming out of the classroom were the sympathetic glances. Slytherin support was not a complete surprise, though in his day, it wasn't something to be taken for granted. At least Professor Snape had helped stop the back-biting and unite the house. But he was amazed at how some of the other students reacted. Some smirked at him and looked pleased at his humiliation. But others looked like they agreed with him – a few even made faces at the teacher's back. And did Potter really cast him a quick glance that *wasn't* filled with mocking?

When the class ended, Snape was the first one out the door, barely heeding when his hip slammed painfully into a desk. His fellow Slytherins caught up with him as he stormed into the Common Room and threw himself into his usual armchair.

"Kirby was bang out of order. I can't believe he was such an arse."

"Pansy's right," Malfoy agreed. "He was a real prat."

Goyle smacked his fist into his hand. His actions spoke for them all.

"He's better than Umbridge," Millicent Bulstrode commented. "With her, we learned *only* from the textbook, and she wouldn't even let us practice magic."

"I liked Umbridge!" Malfoy protested. "She founded the Inquisitorial Squad!"

"Perhaps you'd better back up and tell me about Umbridge," Snape requested, feeling a lot calmer.

"Dolores Umbridge was last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Malfoy explained. "But she was much more than that. She was sent by Fudge – that's the Minister of Magic – to review the curriculum at Hogwarts. She made lots of educational decrees and eventually became Headmistress for awhile. Anyway, she founded the Inquisitorial Squad, and lots of Slytherins were members. It was great – we got to deduct House points."

"Really? I'd love to take a few points off of Gryffindor." Severus smirked. "But did you say that she wouldn't let you practice Defense? Wasn't this right before your OWLs?"

"Yeah, but so what?" Draco shrugged. "We did all right."

"Deducting points is all well and good, but did you get anything else out of the deal?"

"We didn't need anything else! Just the chance to pound some Gryffies!" Crabbe exclaimed.

"So let me get this straight. You gave away the ability to learn essential skills for your OWLs just to take away a point or two? Sounds like you sold out."

Draco's jaw worked, but no sound came out. Severus swept past him up the stairs to the dormitory.

When he simply couldn't bear the suspense anymore, he found himself knocking on what he fervently hoped was Professor Snape's chambers. After a few moments, the door creaked open to reveal the professor's face, set in a very displeased scowl. Upon seeing his younger self, however, his expression relaxed considerably. "Oh, it's you. Well, I suppose you might as well come in. To be honest, I expected you to turn up a few days ago."

Severus grinned, for once not hesitating to show his delight. "I didn't want to intrude too soon, sir. If this isn't the most amazing collection!" He looked around like a kid with a sweet tooth in Honeydukes. "Oh Merlin's stars, you have the first edition of Fangs and Scales – An Encyclopedia of Dark and Fearsome Creatures!"

Professor Snape felt a smile threaten to cross his features. It was certainly a welcome change to see a student actually *interested* in learning and books, although he hoped to misdirect or at least channel the curiosity with the Dark Arts. And the boy wasn't nearly as obnoxious or showy about it as Granger.

Severus selected a well-preserved text of Fearsome Witches and Wizards of the 19th Century and How They Were Defeated and curled up in a comfortable armchair. It was even better than the one in the common room. The professor seated himself and resumed reading from the pile of potions periodicals as he sipped his tea.

They barely exchanged a word for an hour as they sat in companionable silence. Both of them hated idle chatter.

"How are things going for you?" the professor finally asked, tossing aside a periodical in disgust. No doubt the author was a complete imbecile.

"Alright, I suppose. It's a fair sight better than in my time. No Marauders to torment me."

"I would imagine that a lot of the students would use you as a scapegoat for their displeasure toward me."

Severus smirked slightly. "Some have tried, believe me, but they were the ones who came out the worse for wear. Let's just say the others quickly learned to leave me alone. And the few that didn't swiftly met with Crabbe and Goyle's fists." That had been a truly pleasant surprise. He had magnanimously offered to help them with their Defense homework for a week, which had caused him to nearly tear out his hair in frustration – certainly the wall had more intelligence – but it was worth it.

Professor Snape nodded. "It's good to see that House loyalty has improved, and that there are fewer Gryffindor gangs roaming the halls."

"Shame to hear about Lucius. I know he likes to flirt with danger, but I still can't believe he ended up in Azkaban."

A cloud seemed to fall over the older man's features. "Yes, this was one time that Lucius could not weasel his way out of trouble. Being caught in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries in full Death Eater regalia was a bit obvious, even for the Minister. All the same, it may be the safest place for him, judging from the Dark Lord's reaction."

Severus opened his mouth, ready to voice what were no doubt hundreds of questions, but Snape fixed him with a direct stare. "Perhaps you could do me a service. My Slytherins probably relate to you on a more personal level than they do me. I need to know where their sympathies lie. Please understand that I will not judge or punish them based on their loyalty, but things are coming to a head. I simply need to know where everyone stands."

The teen looked somewhat taken aback. "Okay, I can do that."

"I'm certain you will be subtle."

"Of course." He looked at his older self sharply. "Are things not going well?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not as well as I'd like."

He looked at the clock. The hands were nearly touching 'curfew'. "Guess I'd better get going. Can I come back tomorrow?"

"I suppose." It was as much of a welcome as he would ever get.

He hastened back to his dorm and almost tripped over a figure lying in the corridor. Neville Longbottom lay sprawled on the ground, his cheeks flushed red with frustrated anger and embarrassment. A short distance away stood Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "What are you doing?" Severus asked. "Why are there Gryffindors cluttering up the hallway?"

The other Slytherins guffawed. "We caught ickle Nevvie sneaking back to his tower! Shouldn't go sneaking about after dark with curfew coming up." Crabbe directed a kick to the boy's stomach. Neville rolled out of the way just in time.

Goyle chortled, making him appear even dumber than usual. He clutched a potted plant in his mitt-sized hands. He lifted it above his head menacingly. "NO!" Neville screamed, scrambling to his feet and brandishing his wand. "That was a gift from my Uncle Algie!"

"Smash it!" Draco said gleefully.

"Don't you dare!" Severus cried, snatching it from the startled Goyle. "That's a Mimbulus mimbletonia! It's rare enough to even put a dent in your purse, Malfoy. Its sap is very valuable for Potions-making. If you harm it, I will be forced to respond in kind."

The sadistic glee faded from the trio's face. "You're… you're not serious!" Malfoy exclaimed.

"When it comes to Potions ingredients this rare, you'd better believe it. Why are you attacking Longbottom anyway? Does he pose some sort of threat to you?"

Crabbe shifted nervously. "Aw, we wuz just havin' fun with him."

"Fun." Snape's tone was flat. "You think three against one is fun. Apparently Longbottom is very dangerous to require the three of you to gang up against him."

Draco laughed – a short, derisive bark. "Him? He can barely even hold his wand properly!" Neville gave an incoherent shriek of anger, pointing his wand at Malfoy.

Snape looked unconcerned, almost bored. "Then why bother wasting your time with him? Ganging up on a weak Gryffindor makes you look weak as well. Or are you afraid to face such a weakling without backup?" Draco's mouth worked like a fish. Neville's anger and frustration drained away in an instant, and he was forced to bite his lip to keep from giggling.

"But he's – he's…!" Malfoy exclaimed, trying frantically to find a way to justify his bullying.

"Save it for Potter. I assume he'd be a worthier opponent." Draco looked like he wanted to argue. "I've just come from Professor Snape's quarters. He's not in a good mood, and if we're caught out after curfew, I doubt he'd be inclined to forgive."

Draco swore under his breath. "Crabbe, Goyle, come on!" He glared at Neville, who was holding his wand so tight his hand had turned white. "This isn't over, Longbottom."

Neville heaved a huge sigh of relief once they turned the corner. "Wow, thanks!"

Snape gave him a look of disgust. "I wasn't worried about you; I was worried about the plant!"

Neville did not take offense. Snape found this odd. Either Longbottom was used to being insulted, or he no longer found Snape upsetting. "That's okay. I was too."

Severus handed him the plant with an air of reluctance. "Don't take this outside your dorm again."

"I definitely won't. I only brought it down to get it some special fertilizer. It was looking a bit droopy." He hesitated, looking at the Slytherin shyly. "You said that the plant's sap was valuable for potion-making. Would you like me to give you some?"

Snape's eyes lit up. Neville thought he almost looked handsome. "*Would* I?" He fumbled in his bag and withdrew several glass vials. "Here, take your time and give it to me in Herbology."

"Thanks, Severus! See you tomorrow."

Snape had already reached the portrait hole before he realized that Longbottom had called him by his first name. He hoped it didn't mean he was getting soft.


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The next day, Severus could hardly wait for Herbology. When Neville offered him the vials, he held them with unrestrained delight. He could scarcely pay attention in any of his classes and even forwent his habitual visit to the library to spend brewing time in the Potions classroom. Snape scarcely looked up as his younger self entered – they had been spending a lot of time together of late and were used to each other's presence.

After a day of brewing, he took several samples back to the dorm. Five minutes after testing his potion, he leapt up and ran for the bathroom. He did not return. Several Slytherins passed in and out of the loo, but the middle stall remained stubbornly locked. Finally, someone put two and two together. Nott knocked lightly on the stall door. "Snape? Are you in there?"

The faint buzzing that had filled his ears disappeared. Snape had likely removed some sort of deafening spell. "Yeah," a breathless voice answered.

"Are you all right?"

"…no…" The buzzing returned, but not before the unmistakable sound of someone getting sick.

"Do you want me to call someone?"

Long silence. "Yeah."

"Professor Snape, or Madame Pomfrey?"

"Definitely Professor Snape. Madame Pomfrey will flay me alive! This isn't exactly the first time this has happened."

Faster than anyone had believed possible, Snape arrived, startling the students gathered in the Common Room as he swept past.

"Mister Snape," he addressed the loo door. "Apparently you are the worse for wear."

A low groan was his only response. He had either lifted the Muffliato spell, or he had grown too weak to maintain it.

"You tested one of your potions on yourself?"

Another groan, this one with an affirmative note.

"Do you have any anti-nausea potion?"

Negative grunt.

"So let me get this straight. You tested an experimental potion on yourself with no anti-nausea potion to address any potentially negative responses."

Gagging.

Professor Snape looked around at the curious students that had tried to crowd into the bathroom. "Do any of you think that this was a good idea? Are any of you tempted to test unknown concoctions on yourselves?" A sea of heads shook. They'd seen what happened when the Weasleys were testing their inventions and knew to steer clear.

After a few more dramatic gagging and sick-sounding noises from the loo, the professor rolled a vial underneath the door. A few more agonized grunts and groans sounded as the boy fought to not expel the potion. Finally the door unlocked and Severus appeared – disheveled, sweaty and pale, but vastly improved.

Professor Snape cocked an eyebrow, and the student shrugged. "Whatever were you brewing?"

"A combined stamina and concentration potion."

"Why did you test it on yourself?"

"I thought it was finally perfected."

"That's what I would always say when I was your age, but it would never quite work out that way. Clearly this time something went wrong."

Young Severus shot him a look as if to say 'I cannot believe you would state something so bloody obvious.' "You could say that."

"Bring the remnants to your next Potions class and I will examine it."

"Thank you, sir."

Despite the professor's promise, Severus found that he could not leave the faulty potion alone. He analyzed and examined and researched until the wee hours of the early morning. Exhausted, he collapsed upon the bed fully clothed.

The next day his dormmates could not wake him. Goyle volunteered to sit on his head, but Malfoy figured that that would not go over well with their Head of House. At a loss, they finally left him behind.

Someone must have had a word with Professor Snape, for when the door burst open at the precise start of class, the teacher marched in. On his arm was a wasted-looking Severus. "You knew very well that you had classes today. It was your decision to forego sleep, and you will live with the consequences. You will not be permitted to imbibe any Pepper-Up or revitalizing serum." The student slumped into his seat, struggling to keep his eyes open. Most of the students outside Slytherin looked viciously pleased, but he did earn a few sympathetic glances. Usually Professor Snape showed an unfair partiality to his House – some could not decide if it was comforting or unsettling that he could be such a bastard to himself.

Despite the Slytherin's exhaustion, he still managed to brew a flawless potion. The professor barely glanced at it as he made his rounds. The only sounds in the room were hushed whisperings and the quiet bubbling of brewing potions. The silence was shattered by a loud thud. Professor Snape whirled around, insults poised on the tip of his tongue. He was flummoxed to see, instead of yet another Slytherin/Gryffindor spat, his younger self sprawled out on the floor, the chair toppled beside him.

Pandemonium erupted. A few students who weren't fond of either Snapes smirked. Draco looked concerned but seemed to have no idea what to do.

Professor Snape elbowed some nosy gawkers out of the way. He knelt and felt the boy's pulse, then brandished his wand and commanded, "Ennervate!"

Severus' eyelids fluttered open and he groaned softly. Snape scowled at him. "Did you eat breakfast today?" He shook his head weakly. "What about dinner yesterday? Lunch?"

Severus frowned. "I don't remember," he said weakly.

Draco spoke up. "He had breakfast with us yesterday, sir. I don't recall seeing him at the other meals."

"Idiot boy!" Professor Snape growled, grabbing the dazed student by his robes and hauling him to his feet. He Summoned revitalizing and nutritive potions and unceremoniously poured them down Severus' throat. "I will not have my class disrupted in such a manner! Five points from Slytherin for fainting in my classroom!" The statement was so ludicrous that the students couldn't help but giggle. "Go visit Madame Pomfrey."

"Please, not her, sir!" the teen protested. "She'll scold me until I go spare! Please just let me go rest in the dorm, and I'll grab a sandwich from somewhere along the way."

The professor's dark eyes bored into him. "Very well. Return to the dormitory. I will have a house elf stop by with a tray to fuel your worthless hide. Mister Malfoy, return with him and ensure he eats every crumb." The other Slytherins gazed at Draco enviously as he escorted his dazed house-mate out of the classroom. Much as they liked Professor Snape, they wouldn't mind skiving either.

Draco had been rather cold to Severus after the Longbottom incident, but he seemed to warm slightly after Snape's fainting spell. Apparently getting yelled at by Professor Snape generated some sympathy. Severus barely noticed either event or cared. He was in his element, with samples of Mimbulus mimbletonia sap to experiment with and fascinating texts to devour in Professor Snape's room. He began to spend more time with his older self than he did with anyone else. Several times the professor suggested that he spend time with those his own age, but Severus would just make a face. They barely understood a word he said. The professor got so used to his presence that he started giving Severus odd jobs – he took on the task of grading the lower-level classes' homework. Severus noticed that the professor often seemed weary but decided not to comment. After all, his older self had to teach classes and perform duties as Head of House. Snape had given so much to him; it was the least he could do to alleviate some of his burden. Together, they found an easy companionship that made life bearable.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Severus sat slumped in his seat, resigned to another class full of mindless Defense lessons, taught by rote directly from the textbook. Honestly, even he could do a better job! He lifted his head as the professor appeared at the front of the room. He frowned slightly. This man wasn't Professor Kirby. He looked rather shabby, with a silly-looking mustache and ratty clothing. He wondered if the man was even poorer than he was. Such a thing was hard to imagine.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all gasped with joy and ran to hug the man. "Professor Lupin!" Hermione cried.

Severus became stock-still, his breath coming in harsh pants. No. It couldn't be.

"Can't believe they let that oaf back in!" Draco muttered in his ear. "I thought we'd seen the last of him."

"You mean he's taught here before?" He was feeling faint again.

"Yeah, it was awful!" Crabbe explained. "He was here our third year."

Pansy shook her head. "It's the usual… he babies and praises the Gryffindors and barely says a word to the Slytherins. He even pulled a nasty trick when he was teaching – Longbottom is afraid of Professor Snape, so Lupin had him picture a boggart of Snape in his gran's dress. I thought that was really low for a professor and showed exactly how little he cares for our House. It's no wonder Professor Snape hates him. You must loathe him too."

Lupin managed to shoo the jubilant students back to their desks. "Hello again to you all. Professor Kirby has fallen ill, so I will be covering his classes for the next few days. I unfortunately cannot return as a full-time Professor, but the Ministry has very generously allowed me to substitute on certain pre-approved days."

Draco looked mutinous. "Why can't Professor Snape substitute? After all, he did when *you* were indisposed."

Lupin looked unconcerned at the veiled insult. "Professor Snape has many responsibilities, and it would be unfair to burden him further."

"We're glad you're here, Professor," Harry said pointedly, glaring at Draco.

Lupin smiled, looking around the room. His eyes stopped on the newest student and widened in surprise. "Harry wrote to me about the Potions accident. This must be an unusual experience for you, Mister Snape." Snape glowered at him.

"I've been reading over Professor Kirby's lesson plan and I see that you are studying advanced offensive and defensive spells. Before we delve in, are there any questions?"

Severus raised his hand with a tiny smirk. "What is the best way to kill a werewolf?"

Lupin looked startled, but he quickly recovered his wits and laughed. "I'm afraid that subject was studied back in the Third-Year courses, but it never hurts to have a refresher. This class in particular has had a rather fragmentary teaching experience in Defense. Mythology holds that werewolves should be killed with silver bullets. This is certainly a viable option, and those afflicted with lycanthropy do have a mild allergy to silver. However, werewolves can also be harmed by a variety of spells and potions, just like normal wolves. An excellent question, if a bit simplistic." Severus seethed. "I must confess I'm quite surprised – you became quite the werewolf expert, if memory serves, and I would be willing to wager that you already knew the answer." Lupin walked past his desk, forcing Snape to turn to keep him in his field of vision. He refused to take his eyes off such a dangerous creature for a moment. "There's no need for pretense, Mister Snape. The students are quite aware that I am a werewolf."

The Slytherin student's face flushed bright red. He set his jaw and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I understand that werewolves can be unsettling," Lupin explained in what was probably meant to be a soothing manner. "But the Wolfsbane potion has gone a long way to improving the lives of lycanthropes and their loved ones. It allows a transformed werewolf to maintain its human mind."

"Yeah," Draco hissed. "When they remember to take it!"

"The Wolfsbane potion?" Severus asked scornfully. "There is no such thing. I am certain that if it existed it would be well-publicized."

"I would not expect you to have heard of it; it is a fairly recent invention. If you are truly interested in the details, I'm certain Professor Snape will enlighten you. He is one of the few brewers on this continent who is capable of making it, and he has made several substantial improvements. He may even be pleased to have your assistance."

Severus scowled deeply. He did not take insults lightly. In the space of a few short moments, Lupin had insulted him twofold by 1) mentioning a potion of which he had no knowledge, and 2) relegating him to a mere assistant in the brewing process. He refused to breathe another word during the entire class. If Lupin asked him a question, even a very basic one, he would say flatly, "I don't know." He half-expected the professor to take points, but Lupin just looked bemused and moved on to the next student (usually Granger) who had raised a hand. When the class period ended, he exited with his wand gripped in his hand, keeping the werewolf in the corner of his eye. He knew how dangerous it was. It would not do to display fear.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Severus couldn't believe how fast time had flown – it was now mid-April and the end of term was close enough to start planning for. He would need to ask the professor where he would be staying over the summer hols.

Professor Kirby stared out at the class impassively. "For your final project, you will write a paper discussing and deconstructing offensive or defensive spells; what makes a good spell and what does not, and how to use the spell to maximum effect. Needless to say, any Unforgivable or Restricted Spell is off-limits for this assignment. This project will be done in pairs, which I will assign. Since some of the other professors have informed me of the importance of inter-house cooperation, you will be working with a classmate from another House. Please keep in mind that this project will comprise fully fifty percent of your grade. The paper should be between ten and twenty lengths of parchment." He pointedly ignored the chorus of groans. "You will have the rest of the class period to meet and discuss your project ideas. The pairings are as follows: Mister Potter and Mister Nott. Mister Weasley and Mister Malfoy." Identical choking sounds could be heard. "Mister Longbottom and Miss Bulstrode." Millicent waved a fist menacingly. "Mister Snape and Miss Granger." Everyone looked flummoxed. What sense did it make to pair up the smartest students in the class? The Slytherins looked sorry for Snape; everyone else looked sorry for Granger. "Miss Abbott and Miss Parkinson. Mister Thomas and Mister Zabini." Snape tuned out the droning professor, his mind already hard at work.

Once the pairings had been assigned, the students reluctantly gravitated into pairs. The hostility in the room was palpable. Weasley and Malfoy already looked ready to hex each other. Potter and Nott looked less violent, but each carefully avoided touching the other. Inter-house cooperation might have gone a bit better if the pairings were more carefully selected. It just reinforced Snape's impression that Professor Kirby was a narrow-minded moron. Anyone with eyes could tell that Draco and any Gryffindor, and Potter and any Slytherin, would be tempting fate.

He trudged over to Granger's desk, who was eyeing Potter and Weasley nervously. "Hi," she said a bit tremulously. "I suppose we'll be working together." Snape shrugged and refused to even grant that obvious statement a response. "I've got a few ideas of what we can do. I'd rather steer clear of the Shield Charm; it's probably what everyone else will be doing."

"I like the Reverto Impetus charm," Snape commented, "but Professor Kirby has already proven his disklike for that spell."

"There's the Banishing Charm. It can be used on dangerous objects, or on people in a pinch. The Reductor Curse can also be used against objects."

"What about binding spells, such as Incarcerous? Once your opponent is disabled, he can't effectively fight back."

"The body-binding spell has a similar effect," Hermione pointed out. "And the Blasting Curse is very effective during duels."

Snape smirked and glanced at her sideways. "There's always the Entrail-Expelling Curse."

She stared at him, trying to determine if he was serious. "It's Restricted."

"Darn." Okay, he was joking. He had such deadpan humor that it was hard to tell.

"The Stunning Spell?"

"Too obvious, as is the Disarming Spell," Snape sighed. "I want to do something different."

After much wrangling and debating, they narrowed it down to two choices. Hermione was in favor of the Reductor Curse, while Snape steadfastly insisted on Incarcerous. They seemed deadlocked.

Suddenly Snape got a dreamy, faraway look on his face. Hermione stopped arguing abruptly. Was that how *she* looked when she got a big idea? "Say!" he exclaimed, suddenly looking animated. "I've got a smashing idea. Why don't we invent our own spell?"

Hermione looked stunned. "Can we do that?"

"Sure, why not? I do it all the time."

The Gryffindor looked impressed despite herself. "This way we'd have no problem dissecting the curse – we can describe the individual components we used to create it. And we can describe why it's more beneficial than existing spells."

"We have to get to the library. We've got loads of work to do."

Hermione took on the role of teacher's pet and went to beg Kirby for permission to go to the library early. Snape sneered slightly. He saw no reason to kiss up to that fool. He watched the girl gesturing dramatically. Hard to believe that someone else could be as much of a swot as him. Together they'd make the most spectacular presentation ever… if their competitive egos didn't end up locking horns.

They spent the next two weeks holed up in the library, hogging as many books on defensive spells that they could find, much to the disgust of their classmates. Fortunately most of the others had chosen plebian books, so there was not much demand for their advanced texts. Professor Snape had grudgingly granted him a pass for the Restricted Section, as long as the books met with Madame Pince's ruthless inspection. The professor had also reluctantly donated a few of his prized texts after a promise that no one save him or Hermione would handle them.

Madame Pince's temper was badly frayed due to Kirby's ill-conceived pairings – the students did little more than bicker and try to hex each other – so they chose the table in the furthest corner. They observed their classmates wandering in and out. Malfoy and Weasley had finally resorted to working alone and then putting their research together at a later date. Snape could guess which one would end up doing the lion's share of the work. Weasley seemed to be the slacker type, but Malfoy was probably more used to having others do the work for him. It was likely that Granger would end up helping Weasley.

"I'm so glad I've been paired with you!" Hermione gushed one day. "No one else takes the time to thoroughly explore assignments, and most of the time I get stuck doing all the work." He nodded curtly; he had experienced the same thing. Pity she was such a goody-goody Gryffindor.

A commotion broke out at a far table. Neville sitting in his seat, glaring and trying not to cringe as Millicent Bulstrode stood over him waving her fist. "Bulstrode!" Snape called. "If you kill him, you'll have to do all the work yourself." The Slytherin girl grumbled crossly to herself but sat down without further incident.

Granger kept trying to make small talk, which annoyed Snape to no end. It's not as if they were friends or anything. At one point, she mentioned that Professor Snape did not like her. She was almost in tears. Severus scowled at her. "It's not like I have sympathy for you or anything, but I think I may be able to explain why he treats you the way he does." He glanced at her, then quickly away. "You're not to breathe a word of this to anybody. When I first started at Hogwarts, I acted a lot like you did. I knew the answers to everything, had read all the textbooks, and wasn't afraid to show it. I always raised my hand and was proud to flaunt my knowledge. But the students thought that I was a swotty show-off who was trying to make them look bad. I won a lot of house-points, but the misery that the other students caused just wasn't worth it. Even some of the professors got a bit sick of me dominating the classes. Finally I decided that I would just keep to myself and only answer when called upon. Things didn't improve much, but it was actually a relief for me to not have to be the center of attention all the time."

"So he wants me to be quiet unless he specifically addresses me?" Hermione asks.

"Yes; even if no one else knows the answer, look at him and wait for him to call upon you. He doesn't care much for Gryffindors, but maybe this is a back-handed way of trying to help you."


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Severus cursed as he frantically searched the area around his bed. His mother had given him a little charm in the shape of a silver cauldron to celebrate his acceptance into Hogwarts. It was a bit tarnished, but it was still one of his prized possessions. He had taken it out for luck while working on the Defense project with Hermione, and now he couldn't find it. He suspected it may have fallen out of his pocket, but even a Summoning Charm didn't help.

He frowned as an idea occurred to him. He waved his wand, and a fiery glow emanated from across the room. Draco's trunk. No doubt warded against Summoning Charms and the like.

Speak of the devil, he thought as the Malfoy heir sauntered into the room. Severus addressed him with a dangerously soft tone of voice. "You have something of mine."

Draco looked genuinely confused. "Why would I have something of yours?"

"You tell me." He gestured to the trunk, which still emitted an incriminating glow. "Open it up."

Draco hesitated and found a wand leveled at his chest. He knelt and clumsily undid the latches. As soon as the trunk lid had opened a crack, Severus commanded "Accio" and sure enough, the charm sailed into his outstretched hand. He stuffed it into his pocket and returned his attentions to the Slytherin who was trying to edge away from his wand.

"Care to tell me how my charm came to be in your trunk?"

"It… it was lying on the floor in the Common Room. I didn't know whose it was, and—"

"And you thought you could keep it?"

"No! I… I thought I could ask who it belonged to later."

"Tut tut, Malfoy. I thought you could lie better than that. All that money and you can't resist taking things that aren't yours."

Draco looked rebellious. "At least I'm not dirt poor like the Weasels!"

Snape's face darkened and his grip on his wand tightened. Sparks flew from his wand, and Draco suddenly looked afraid. "Poor. You think it's funny to be poor? Tell me, Draco, have you ever worn shoes that didn't fit? Have your clothes ever torn at the seams because they'd had one too many lengthening charms? Have you ever had to choose between food and schoolbooks? You've probably never gone hungry a single day in your life!

"So what do you do? You steal from those who have less than you, simply because you feel entitled and it gives you a thrill! You're so like Lucius – he could never go into a shop without swiping something. Bloody klepto, he was. You better believe I cured him of that, but good. Now his robes catch fire if he tries to rip off anything."

Draco made a gurgling sound. Severus barely heard it in his mounting rage. "You think your money and power makes you better than anyone else? Well, I've got news for you. One day you may have neither, and you'll never survive in the real world. Money isn't doing your father very good right now, is it?"

Draco clutched at his throat in desperation, his face turning blue. Snape suddenly realized his anger had manifested itself in a nonverbal spell and released the boy from its clutches. Malfoy collapsed, gasping and rubbing his sore throat. With a final look of anger and disgust, Severus spun on his heel and marched away.

(A/N: This last bit was inspired by a scene in the Chamber of Secrets movie, where Draco finds a small present in the Common Room and sticks it in his pocket.)

A few days later, Draco received a letter. "It's from Father!" he announced excitedly to Crabbe and Goyle. "Piss off so I can read in peace." They were used to such attitudes from their leader and left with a shrug.

_Dear Draco,_

_I was very pleased to receive your letter. Azkaban has few amenities, and there is not much with which to occupy myself. I was amazed to hear the outcome of the Potions incident that you mentioned. I do wish I could see young Severus again; I have many fond memories of our school days, though I had graduated by the time he reached the age that your friend is now. I was only able to see him during vacations and holidays, but keeping in touch paid off._

_Severus will no doubt seem odd to you at times. He has other priorities that the common student; he will often forsake meals and hygiene when working on a new spell or potion. He also has a very dry sense of humor and delights in confusing people. It is often difficult to tell when he is joking. He will also find something funny that you and I do not. If you recall the horror magivid The Possessed, there is a scene where the hapless witch has her head spin around. Severus thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. He regards that movie more as a comedy than anything else._

_Beware; he likes to make outrageous claims and lies on occasion just to see if anyone will believe him. I remember that he once convinced all the Gryffindors in his year that a vampire lived in the Forbidden Forest and lived for capturing fresh "Gryffie" meat. As long as you use some common sense, you should not fall for his tricks. These are usually directed against the slow-witted or anyone that he dislikes in general._

_Severus is sometimes known as the Prince of Lies (his mother's maiden name is Prince, so that you get the joke), but he can also be brutally honest. While his opinions and statements can frequently sound rude or offensive, I have learned to treasure this quality. Few people will tell me when I am being an arse, but Severus is quite eager to alert me. He is direct and does not concern himself very often with the niceties of society. I have worked to improve this, so that the Professor Snape that you know has more social skills, but I have also tried to be careful and preserve that endearing quality of forthrightness._

_You may be tempted to ask Severus to provide his notes or answers to homework. Refrain; he will certainly give you the wrong answers. If you truly need help, do show that you are making an effort, and he will provide genuine assistance._

_Severus is a genius, one in a million, and any eccentricities should either be indulged or ignored. Like many teenagers, he can be gloomy or downright cross. He may snap or yell at you for no reason. I am glad that you told me about your recent confrontation with him. He does not take kindly to having anyone handle or take his property. He has placed a Thief's Curse on his belongings, and woe to anyone who disturbs them. I confess with some shame that his stories about me are accurate. Do take Mister Snape's threats very seriously, or burned robes may be the very least of your concern. And for the love of Merlin, please do not mention anything else about poverty in front of him. It's sure to earn you a haranguing. Do not share this information with anyone, but Severus grew up quite poor – even worse off than the Weasleys. It is to his credit that he has done so well for himself since then._

_I confess that I do miss both versions of Severus. Hopefully events will turn out in my favor, and I will be able to see them soon._

_Yours,_

_Father_

Draco frowned at the letter. What did Father mean about events turning out in his favor? Bribes hadn't worked with the Wizengamot, and Father had already had his trial and sentencing. Unless he meant that the Death Eaters had something planned. It would be grand if they broke out! But the Dark Lord was angry at the debacle in the Department of Mysteries. Since the Dementors were no longer at Azkaban, perhaps it wasn't such a bad place to be, considering.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room and threw himself on the couch, sighing dramatically. "Stupid Quidditch refs!" he griped. "They give us penalties for playing rough, but they don't notice when the Gryffindor Beater fires a Bludger straight at my head!"

"They're all prats, Draco. Don't waste your time on them," Pansy said soothingly, running her hands through his hair.

"I've let too many things go," Draco protested. "I don't see why we have to take crap from Gryffindors all the time. They say that we're Dark wizards in training. Well, you know what? They're right! They ostracize us from day one and won't let us show our strengths, so who can blame us if we find a Dark wizard who will?"

Severus put down his book. Draco thought that the teen was about to gripe about the noise level, but he turned to Draco and said, "The Gryffindors like to think they're better than everyone else. They're brave and noble; many Hogwarts Headmasters have come from that house, and blah blah blah. No one wants to admit how much preferential treatment they get. Many Gryffindors are actually bullies or troublemakers, and the administration turns a blind eye."

"Exactly!" Draco exclaimed, all former enmity over the 'stealing incident' gone. "Potter is the perfect example. Just because he's got a bitty cut on his head, everyone treats him like he's Merlin reincarnated. McGonagall bought him a broom his first year. She let him play Quidditch. I caught them sneaking around after curfew, and McGonagall gave *me* detention for it! Can you believe?"

"That's not all!" Nott said indignantly. "Remember the Leaving Feast at the end of our first year? We won the House Cup fair and square, and at the very last second, that old bat Dumbledore just assigns some random points and gives it away to Gryffindor! The Great Hall had been decorated with Slytherin banners, and he just changed them! How likely are we to follow Dumbledore after a stunt like that?"

"I like Snape," Goyle said quietly. Everyone stared at him in astonishment. Although his bulk was impressive, he was so quiet that sometimes they forgot he was there. "He doesn't do that to us."

"And he doesn't let anyone else either," Pansy declared. "Everyone gripes and complains that he's not fair. Well, he just evens the playing field for us. He's being obviously preferential to us to make up for the prejudices against us."

"Stupid fools don't realize it's a self-fulfilling prophesy." No one wanted to argue with Snape.

"I think we should put those smug Gryffies in their place," Draco declared.

Snape stared straight ahead with a glassy-eyed look. "Is he all right?" Zabini asked.

Draco thought back to his father's letter. "Maybe he's got an idea. Is that right, Severus?"

Snape waved his hand vaguely in a shooing motion as he grabbed parchment and quill, jotting down a complicated formula. The others shrugged as he leapt to his feet and dashed off to the common room.

He returned almost two hours later and handed Draco the parchment. "Green iridescent dye?" Draco asked curiously.

A sardonic smile touched the thin lips. "It's perfect for the Gryffindors. Won't wash out and can't be removed with spells. It will only affect body hair, so we don't have to worry about the professors whining about ruined textbooks and such."

"You're thinking we should dump this on them?"

"Of course. But it's experimental; it may take me a few tries to get it right."

Zabini came down the stairs. "Something sounds funny up there."

A look of horror crossed Snape's face. "Oh, bugger." He fled up the stairs. A few minutes latter a loud *bang* caused the floor to shake. The sixth-year boys fled up the stairs to see Severus staring mournfully at the charred remains of his potion. "Too much gillyweed juice," he said sadly.

"Professor Snape is coming!" someone cried. Severus quickly kicked his smoking cauldron under the bed as Nott performed an air-freshening charm.

"There seems to have been an explosion in this room," he said in his smooth, threatening tones. "I do not like it when there are explosions in my House. Do explain." He looked pointedly at Severus.

Draco spoke up. "Our apologies, sir. I was trying to teach Crabbe the Reducto spell and it didn't quite go as planned." Crabbe opened his mouth to protest, and Draco stepped squarely on his foot.

"Spells are forbidden in the dorms; however, I can appreciate how Mister Crabbe may need some extra assistance. I do hope that no illicit potion-making is being conducted. That is what the lab is for. Brewing in the dorms is restricted and will be punished." His gaze did not waver from young Severus, who met his eyes unflinchingly. Draco recalled that the professor was a strong Legilimens, but apparently Severus was a good Occlumens as well. "Show me your cauldron."

Severus' eyes widened slightly but his face did not change expression. He knelt and withdrew a cauldron from his trunk. "The other one, Mister Snape," the man said in clipped tones. The younger Snape reached slowly under the bed and withdrew the other cauldron. The assembled Slytherins cringed, but the cauldron emerged sparkling clean. It was rather battered, but that was to be expected from a frequently-used cauldron.

Professor Snape turned the cauldron around in his hands thoughtfully, then returned it to its owner. "Do keep out of trouble. I will not be pleased if I am summoned again tonight."

"Wow, I can't believe you got away with it!" Pansy exclaimed after the professor was safely out of earshot. Severus frowned slightly. He wasn't pleased that she had followed them into the boys' dorm.

"I *didn't* get away with it completely. He is quite certain that I was brewing potions. He just can't prove it."

"How did you get your cauldron clean?"

"Non-verbal Vanishing spell on the contents."

Pansy looked envious. "I still have trouble with non-verbal spells. Kirby doesn't give us enough time to practice." From the expression on everyone's faces, they agreed.

Snape shrugged. "I suppose I could teach you all, if you want. We just have to pick the spells carefully; otherwise Professor Snape will be crosser than an insulted hippogriff."

Bulstrode peeped around the corner, clearly feeling uncomfortable about being in the boys' dorm. "There you are, Pansy!" she exclaimed.

"Come join us, Millie!" she invited. "Severus is going to teach us non-verbal spells. It'll be loads better than that 'Dumbledore's Army' joke."

There were a few unfortunate incidents – Draco mourned the passing of his prized down pillow as it burst into flames – but they seemed to be making a bit of progress, even with the moron twins of Crabbe and Goyle.

Exhausted, they slumped down onto their beds. Pansy sat next to Draco on his bed, and Millie hoped up on Snape's. Snape didn't seem to notice or care.

"What Amimagus form would you like to have?" Bulstrode asked abruptly.

"What?" Severus looked flummoxed by the non-sequitur.

"It's a game we sometimes play in the girls' dorm. We ask each other what Animagus or Patronus form we think we could have."

"That's just the silly sort of game a girl would play," Crabbe said derisively.

Pansy stuck out her tongue at him. "Then don't play."

Severus leaned back against his pillow and stretched out his long legs, kicking his battered shoes to the floor. Millicent also kicked off her shoes but stayed in a seated position. "I'd like to be a snake. Snakes are really neat. They like sunning themselves on big rocks, and they smell with their tongues. Plus I could bite anyone who annoyed me. Lucius sometimes calls me Snake. Thinks he's made a clever joke on my name."

"It suits you," Bulstrode said seriously. "I'd like to be a unicorn. Something graceful and beautiful."

"You'd probably be a hippo!" Crabbe exclaimed, and Goyle let out a bray of laughter. Without saying a word, Snape twitched his wand and sent a shoe flying at Crabbe's head. Millie shot him a grateful look. Neither of them would ever be considered beautiful, and it created an odd sort of understanding between them.

"What about you then, Crabbe?" Bulstrode said challengingly.

He shrugged. "A bear, I suppose."

"I'd like to be an elephant," Goyle said in his slow, plodding voice. "They're big and strong." He paused. "And smart." No one could find the heart to tease him.

"What about you, Draco?" Pansy cooed. Severus mimed sticking a finger down his throat, and Millicent laughed.

"He'd be a ferret," Snape declared. The room roared with laughter, and Severus looked confused until someone finally explained. Then Snape, to their surprise, joined in the merriment. "The Malfoys have albino peacocks on their estate. I always thought it was the perfect Animagus form for Lucius." Draco looked cross. "I call him a strutting peacock all the time, Draco, and he acts like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. He says he humors me since I'm his best friend, and he'd hex anyone else who dared try to insult him."

Nott declared he wanted to be a hippogriff. Draco made a disparaging remark about stupid chickens. "You're just mad because that hippogriff thrashed you."

"Did you insult it?" Snape asked curiously. "Hippogriffs generally don't attack otherwise."

"Just because I called it a great ugly brute…."

"If you're stupid enough to insult a hippogriff," Severus sneered, "then you got exactly what was coming to you."

Draco looked offended, but then remembered his father's letter. Severus is odd. Severus is a genius. Severus must be dealt with leniently. He wondered how his father ever put up with him.

Despite the explosive setback, Snape had a working dye in short order. After casting some swift Disillusionment charms, a select few Slytherins crept outside the Gryffindor portrait and waited. They knew full well that there was a House meeting inside. Once the meeting ended, they waited for McGonagall to get a safe distance away. As students began flooding out, they dumped the potions. Screams of shock and outrage ensued. "Professor McGonagall!" outraged voices called.

Laughing, the Slytherins ran back to their dormitory. Severus threw himself down on his seat in the Common Room, grabbed the parchment and quill that he had deliberately left out, and began hastily writing.

Scant minutes later, the portrait opened to admit both Professors Snape and McGonagall. Snape looked impassive, while McGonagall looked furious. "Spells are useless against it, Severus! The harder we try, the brighter the dye becomes! I am certain he's behind it!"

Professor Snape waved a hand and she followed him into the Common Room. The Slytherins looked mutinous. They truly resented having the Gryffindor Head of House invade their territory. "Mister Snape, where have you been for the last fifteen minutes?" Professor Snape asked.

Severus gave him a politely confused look. "I've been right here, sir, working on my Herbology assignment."

"Mister Snape, do not think for a moment that—" Professor McGonagall began in a huff.

Professor Snape picked up the parchment his younger self had been working on and ran his thumb through the ink on the top page. The words smeared, and Severus cried out in outrage. "The ink is fresh," the professor remarked, restoring the parchment with a tap of his wand. He turned to the assembled students. "Can you confirm Mister Snape's whereabouts?" They all nodded vigorously.

Professor Snape turned back to Professor McGonagall, who was white-lipped in anger. "Mister Snape has a corroborated alibi. It does appear as if he has been working here all this time."

McGonagall sniffed. "I still believe he is the real culprit." She shot an accusatory glance at the Slytherins. "What about my Gryffindors? Can't you do anything?"

"Unfortunately not. As you noticed, any attempt to intervene worsens the situation. The dye appears to be short-term and should fade in just a few days." Severus bit his lip to keep from smiling. The professor knew very well that a simple potion existed to easily remove the dye. As Professor Snape guided the woman out of the snake den, he turned to glance at the wayward student. He stared at the young Slytherin, and Severus stared back. A tiny smirk curled the professor's lips as he exited the Slytherin dorm.

"No way!" Pansy laughed as soon as the coast was clear. "We just totally got away with it."

"Good thinking with the wet ink," Draco remarked. "Guess you used another non-verbal spell."

Severus smirked and told them about the dye-removing potion that Professor Snape neglected to mention. They all shared a good laugh at their Head of House's collusion, and at the shame and embarrassment that the Gryffindors would suffer for the next few days.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

The next day, the Gryffindors were greeted with jeers and catcalls from the Slytherin table as they slunk in to Potions. Potter practically had steam coming out of his ears, and Granger and Weasley had to wrestle him into his seat. He and Malfoy exchanged barbs until Professor Snape swept through the door. Everyone fell silent – not even the Slytherins dared speak.

Halfway through the class, Professor Snape was distracted by a failed potion that was emitting potentially toxic fumes. While his back was turned, Draco and Harry took the opportunity to insult each other with renewed vigor. Severus scowled at Potter darkly but did not get involved – he was almost finished with his latest experiment.

"You're a prat too, Snape," Potter hissed. "Don't think for a moment we don't know who was behind this!" He gestured to his untidy mop of glowing green hair.

"In case it escaped your notice, Potter, you're part of the reason I'm here. I would not have come into being if it wasn't for your incessant carping with Draco. Gryffindors are always dishing it out but can never take it."

Harry raised his wand; Hermione grabbed his arm and managed to cancel out whatever spell he'd been casting with one of her own, but enough of a breeze was generated to put out the flame under his cauldron and instantly ruin his delicate potion.

"Go wash your pants, Snivelly," Harry snarled.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped. "That's awful!"

Severus sat stock still as a red haze filled his vision. He gripped the desk until his knuckles turned white. Draco looked at him curiously. No one had seemed to really understand Harry's comment – and just *how* had he learned about the pants incident? – but it was plainly something embarrassing, and a few of his classmates were tittering.

Just like Potter. Just like James. He had known that they were alike, and now here was the proof. Both Potters had no regard for anything other than themselves. The stuck-up brat had no idea of the time and effort that he had just ruined, but if he had, it would probably make him all the happier. Well, it was only right that he returned the favor.

He reached into his Potions kit and withdrew a small bit of Erumpent horn. When the Gryffies' attention was diverted, he levitated the horn into the potion, which promptly exploded. He allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction. Tit for tat, Potter.

Potter and Weasley spluttered angrily while Granger berated them. Professor Snape sidled over with a nasty smile. "Problems again?" he asked, dipping in a ladle. His smile faded as the bit of horn bobbed to the surface. He swiveled to look at the Slytherin table, his face a mask of still fury.

"Mister Snape," he snapped. "I have granted more liberties for you than any student in this school. I believed that you were mature enough to handle it. A pity to see that I judged you incorrectly. Sabotaging potions is an unforgivable offense. Erumpent horn is explosive and highly dangerous, and by using it irresponsibly you have put this entire class at risk. As punishment, you will clean the bedpans in the Hospital Wing tonight without magic. I will also strike twenty points from Slytherin House."

All color drained from Severus' face. "But sir!" Draco protested. "It's Potter's fault! He—"

"Mister Potter did not place the horn in his own potion, Mister Malfoy. I am quite aware of who possesses such an ingredient and how it came to be in this cauldron." He glared at the entire class. "The next mishap that occurs will result in detention for the entire class. Now get back to work!"

Severus spent the rest of the time blindly staring at the wall. He didn't even bother to clean the mess in his cauldron. Draco looked concerned and tried to engage him in conversation a few times, but the young Slytherin ignored everything around him. Draco finally cleaned his cauldron for him and packed up his supplies. When class ended, Draco shot him one last worried look. "I'll take your things up to the dorm for you," he murmured as he left.

When the classroom had emptied, Severus turned to go. The professor seemed about to speak, but the student walked on by as if he was invisible. 'What a fool I was!' he thought. 'To believe that anything could really change. Professor Snape's just like all the rest. He lets Potter get away with murder right in his own classroom! I thought that finally someone was on my side. Guess I was wrong.'

In the distance he could hear voices, but in his distracted state he barely noticed. "Darn it, I can't find my quill. Maybe I left it back in the classroom."

"I'll come with you, Harry. I don't want you braving that room alone."

"I've got to get to the library. See you guys later."

He rounded a corner and ran smack into Potter and Weasley. "Don't have your friends to back you up this time?" Harry snarled as he brandished his wand.

Snape began to laugh; a hollow, mirthless sound. The two Gryffies looked at him blankly. Oh, wasn't this just *perfect*? The slimeballs show their true colors and gang up on him. Just like always. "Looks like I can't say the same for you," he finally replied, looking at Ron pointedly. "It's always the Gryffindors who need a crowd to beat up on a Slytherin."

"You've got some nerve exploding my potion!" Harry growled. "You've given me nothing but problems since the first day I arrived at school! Now there are two of you to make my life hell!"

Severus inched his hand into his pocket, grasping the handle of his wand. "So you're going to hold me responsible for actions that I haven't even done. What a surprise. In case you haven't noticed, I got a detention for that potion, while you didn't get so much as a single point taken away for what you did."

"What *he* did?" Ron yelled.

"Yeah, what he did. Ruined my potion and called me filthy names. Potty whines about what Professor Snape does, but today he let him get off scott-free! Seems I should be the one complaining."

Harry grabbed Snape by the lapels. Snape took the opportunity to whip out his wand, but it was promptly snatched out of his grasp. "Got it, mate!" Finnigan announced. Great, another pack of Gryffies had arrived. "Trying to hex Harry, are you? Can't let him get away with that!"

Snape lunged and tried to push past the growing crowd, but a flash from Seamus' wand knocked him flat on his back. Ah yes, now the cheers and catcalls were beginning. Just like always.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" a voice yelled.

The jeering and shuffling around abruptly stopped. Neville Longbottom stood at the fringes of the crowd, hands on hips and a determined look on his face.

"Aw, Neville, come on! Snape's been nothing but rotten to you. Don't you want to get a little of your own back?"

Neville snatched Snape's wand from Seamus, who looked taken aback. "Professor Snape, maybe. But Severus has been all right. In fact, he's saved me from Slytherin bullies twice now. Right now, Harry, you're not looking much better than Crabbe and Goyle."

Finnigan frowned. "He didn't attack you first, Harry?"

Harry winced and clapped a hand to his forehead. "I just… I just feel so *angry*!"

"Maybe your anger isn't directed toward him," Neville said quietly. "Look, Harry, I like you but you'd better get ahold of yourself. You can't just go attacking people because you feel like it. That's what You-Know-Who does."

Harry stared at Snape. For once, he didn't see the sneering face and sweeping robes of the professor. He saw a scrawny, miserable boy who was used to being picked on with no recourse. Had he *really* called him Snivellus and made fun of his underpants? He had felt so ashamed of his father, and now he was using that very event against Snape! "You're right, Neville," he said quietly. "I don't want to be like Voldemort," he ignored the shocked gasps, "or my father, or anyone else that I don't respect. Give him back his wand and let him go."

Seeing that the show was over, the crowd dispersed as quickly as it formed. Ron looked rather disappointed that Snape wasn't going to 'get his', but he was also watching Harry warily, as if Harry might suddenly take it into his head to attack him as well.

Hermione came running up. "Lavender told me something was up with Harry! What's going on?"

"Harry almost attacked Snape!" Neville exclaimed, still looking outraged.

"Oh, Harry, no!" Hermione looked so disappointed. Harry's heart sank.

"I like Severus," a dreamy voice announced. No one had realized that Luna had been part of the crowd that had formed. "He feeds the Thestrals with me sometimes. He doesn't believe in Nargles or Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks, but he doesn't make fun of me either."

Seeing his opportunity, Snape turned to go. "Wait," Harry ordered, and Snape froze, almost expecting a spell to hit him in the back. "Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, alright? I don't like you and I'm sure you don't like me, but what I did was out of line. And thanks, Neville, for bringing me back to my senses."

The sappiness was gagging him. Seeing his opportunity, he slunk off into the shadows.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Severus spent the next few days like an automaton, attending classes and doing his homework but precious little else. He reluctantly worked on the Defense project with Hermione, who constantly apologized for Harry's actions until he was ready to hex her, but all his previous enthusiasm had disappeared. It was a relief to complete their project and turn it in. They had had to use a subtle shrinking charm on the text to get it to fit into the recommended length. He performed no experiments, and he scarcely read anymore. He spent a lot of time wandering around the castle and its grounds like a phantom.

The change was most evident in Potions class. Rather than taking on independent study projects, he simply brewed the same potions as the rest of the class. He did it flawlessly and much faster than anyone else, but he stuck to the recipe. Once he was done, he either stuck his nose in a book or stared listlessly at the wall. He stopped dropping by the Potions classroom after hours to analyze the potion mishap that had brought about his existence. He no longer visited Professor Snape in the evening to grade papers or discuss forbidden lore or browse through dusty tomes.

The professor noticed a change in Draco as well. Severus and young Mister Malfoy seemed to have an odd relationship that alternated between familiarity (almost friendship) and antagonization, very much like the elder Severus and Lucius Malfoy. But now Draco hovered over his dorm mate like an anxious mother hen, and from time to time threw the professor confused glances that sometimes bordered on accusation.

As Severus was trudging out from another uneventful Potions class, the professor stopped him. "Mister Snape, a word."

The boy turned, and Professor Snape was taken aback by the emptiness of his eyes. "Enough of this moping around. Surely your detention wasn't so odious as to warrant this melodrama. If you are looking for sympathy from me, you will not find it. However, I have ordered a new Potions text which may be of interest."

Severus clenched his jaw. "No, thank you. I am no longer interested in your texts, nor do I require your sympathy. I will survive on my own, as I always have."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it sounds like it means. You really had me going there for awhile, feeding me lines about Slytherins sticking together and how you've united the House. The others are all so bloody proud of you and how you give Slytherins preferential treatment to offset all the crap that we face from other Houses. But you're just like all the rest, turning a blind eye when the teasing and bullying starts. You punish me for defending myself."

"Sabotaging a potion with dangerous ingredients is not defending yourself."

"To me it is, and if you really remembered who I am and what it's like to be my age, you'd know that. Draco complains about how everyone coddles Potter and brags about how you aren't soft on him, but you proved the exact opposite."

"Me?" the professor snorted softly. "Soft on Potter? You must be joking!"

"Try me," the student said softly, gesturing to the professor's wand.

Slowly, Professor Snape raised his wand. "Legilimens!"

Severus pushed the relevant thoughts to the forefront of his mind. The images came through to the professor in brief flashes. Once he had viewed the entire exchange in the classroom, and the Gryffindors ganging up afterward, the professor broke the connection, white-faced and breathing hard. "I'll kill him," he whispered softly.

"How did he know about my nickname and my underpants? Did his father tell him?"

Professor Snape seemed to have difficulty focusing on the questions. "No, Potter's parents are long dead." The words seemed to hurt him. "Mister Potter learned of these things because I was teaching him Occluemency on the Headmaster's orders, and Potter deliberately invaded the memories that I placed in a Pensieve."

"Potter was rubbing his head and said something about being angry all the time. A few people seemed shocked."

The professor looked concerned. "That is very disturbing news. As I suspected, the boy has made absolutely no effort to Occlude his mind. I must inform the Headmaster." He paused. "Do not worry about him. I will find a way to punish him."

"Don't bother," Severus remarked. "He actually apologized. That's more than any of the Marauders have ever done."

Snape reached into a drawer and pulled out a book. "This is the Potions text that I mentioned. I have not even gotten a chance to look at it. Perhaps you'd like to have first crack at it."

It was as good as an apology as Severus was apt to get. "I suppose it's worth a look," he said grudgingly. "But you can grade your own bloody essays."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The Gryffindor trio stood talking to Hagrid outside his hut. The large man was talking about his latest monstrous pet with a tear in his eye. "'E's not dangerous t'all!" he protested. "Sure, 'e's got sharp fangs and breathes fire, but that's just Nature's way of lettin' 'im defend himself!"

They were saved from responding when Hagrid lifted his head and cried out, "Hullo, Severus! I heard what happened but never got a chance to speak ta ye. How are ye doin'?"

Severus paused, carrying a basket full of vials and collection jars. He had been exploring the grounds in search of potions ingredients. "Hullo, Hagrid," he said, eyeing the Gryffindors suspiciously.

"C'mere and talk to me a bit. These three won't hurt ye none."

Severus approached slowly, sliding his wand into his sleeve, as if he would be hexed in broad daylight in front of a teacher. With his track record, he wouldn't be surprised. "Are you really teaching Care of Magical Creatures? I heard Draco talking about it."

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Now don't ye go believin' everything that that lad says! Buckbeak barely scratched 'im—"

"Draco was a fool for insulting a hippogriff, and I've told him so. Did the students really get to *ride* him?" The Slytherin looked fascinated.

"Well, yeh, if they got on well enough."

"And your classes get to see Thestrals?"

"Oh yes, fascinatin' creatures, Thestrals. Luna tells me you've been helpin' her ta feed them."

"Draco also said something about Blast-Ended Skrewts. I've never heard of those. What are they? Did you breed them yourself? However did you get away with making a new breed?"

"Well, I, uh…"

"I wish I'd had you as my teacher. Your classes are so much cooler than Professor Kettleburn's!"

Hagrid fairly swelled with pride. He rummaged in his pockets and withdrew a grimy-looking handkerchief, which he used to dab at his eyes and loudly blow his nose. It sounded like a foghorn. "That's a right lovely thing ta say!" he sniffed. "I'm glad ta have a Slytherin who 'preciates my classes."

"I'm full up this year," Severus said almost apologetically, "but I'd love to have a few private lessons if you can manage it."

"Private lessons!" Hagrid sobbed. "Bless yer heart, Severus!" He dashed into his hut, leaving the Gryffindors to gape at his retreating back. They glanced at each other, wearing identical expressions of shame. They had secretly dreaded Hagrid's classes due to the ferocious creatures that the half-giant loved to adopt and introduce to the students. Severus was genuinely enthusiastic and appreciative, and they felt guilty that they could not bring themselves to feel the same. It had been a relief to drop Care of Magical Creatures.

Hagrid appeared in short order and stuffed something in Snape's basket. "'Ere ya go! Know ye'll have a good use fer this."

Severus reached into the basket and withdrew a handful of fine white hair. "Hagrid! This is unicorn tail! It's worth a fortune!"

"'Tis nuthin'. The unicorns snag it on branches and such. So long as it's not taken forcefully, it should be foine for ye ta use. I wuz gonna use it fer bandages, but I s'spect ye'd appreciate it more."

"Oh! I – thank you!"

"I wuz just about to make my rounds and check in on some 'o my creatures. Want ta come with? P'raps we'll come across some more potions ingredients."

"Sure, all right. I was headed that way anyway."

"See you three later!" Hagrid called cheerfully as they walked away, talking about Skrewts and Thestrals and all sorts of creatures. Harry, Ron and Hermione could only shake their heads.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Severus found himself wandering the corridor in the dead of night. He was occasionally plagued by bouts of insomnia, especially when the end of term and its usual pressure arrived. He couldn't smoke – Professor Snape had given him something that was really helping to kill the urge, but he still felt jittery. He needed something to distract himself. Reading or experimenting in the dorm was out – he'd likely disturb his dorm-mates. He usually contented himself with borrowing books from the Restricted Section, but he had promised Professor Snape that he wouldn't. So for now he contented himself with exploring the castle. Everything was so peaceful and quiet. This was when he liked Hogwarts best. He could be alone with his thoughts and plans, unmolested by the immature brats that also attended the school.

A motion caught his eye. He was familiar with the movements of Filch and Mrs. Norris, so he wasn't worried about being caught by them. No, this was something different. He crept along in the darkness, withdrawing his wand and pointing it in front of him. There it was again. Someone had used a Disillusionment charm, but it was failing. It was either a sneaky student that was too clever by half (most didn't bother with spells) or someone was trying to infiltrate the castle. He preferred to watch and wait, but he was worried that he might lose track of his quarry. "Reveal yourself!" he cried, jumping out of the shadows and pointing his wand in what he fervently hoped was the right direction.

"Severus," a voice croaked, and the teen jerked back in surprise. The charm faded to reveal a black-clothed figure leaning heavily against the wall.

"Professor Snape!" the boy exclaimed in astonishment. The man looked awful. He was ghostly white and trembling uncontrollably. The wall was doing most of the supporting.

"Get me to my quarters," the man rasped, and Severus hastened to obey. He wrapped an arm around the professor's waist and swiftly guided him to his room. "Paracelsus!" he exclaimed, and the door slid open.

He half-dragged the man down the hall, heading toward the bedroom, but as they passed the bathroom the professor bolted away and threw himself in front of the toilet, vomiting with force. Severus waited outside respectfully for the fit to subside. He *hated* when people knew he was being sick, and was sure that the professor felt the same way.

Professor Snape flushed the toilet as he came in, but he saw anyway that the vomit was streaked with blood. "You're hurt!" Severus exclaimed in alarm. "What's happened to you?"

The man bent his head to rinse his mouth and nearly fell. Severus conjured a cup and filled it with water, helping his older self to spit into the sink. Once the professor was certain his stomach would not rebel, he had Severus escort him to the bed, where he collapsed in a limp heap.

"Should I call someone?" Severus asked nervously.

"No… not yet, anyway. Hand me those potions on the nightstand, the purple one first," Professor Snape said weakly.

Severus handed him the potions one at a time, helping to unseal them and hold the container steady as the professor drank. He recognized analgesics and healing potions, as well as a few which were completely foreign to him. He thought that one might be used to treat the symptoms of the Cruciatus curse, but who would dare cast that on Professor Snape? "Are you certain it's safe to combine these?" he asked nervously.

"It's probably not a good idea, but I don't have much choice." The man's voice was ragged with pain. His shudders decreased dramatically but he still was shaken by the occasional tremor.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked softly. "What's happening?"

Snape reached into a pocket and withdrew a mask. "Is that a Death Eater's mask?" Severus asked. "So I guess I did become one. And they're somehow related to what happened to you?"

The professor looked markedly improved. "Come with me. I must summon Dumbledore." He seemed much sturdier on his feet as he entered the study. A quick flick of his wand lit the fire in the grate. He threw in Floo powder and called, "Headmaster Dumbledore's office!"

The response was amazingly quick. Dumbledore had to have been waiting. "Severus? You're back! Would you like me to come over?"

Snape grimaced and closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness gripped him. "Perhaps that would be best. The stairs seem to be a bit daunting at the moment, and I definitely don't feel up to a Floo trip."

He stood aside and with a loud whoosh, Dumbledore arrived in the fireplace. He quickly cleaned his robes and nodded to Professor Snape, who was leaning against the mantle. The professor slowly crossed the room and sank down in a chair, all the while maintaining a casual air, as if he were not about to collapse at any moment.

It was then that the headmaster noticed young Severus. "Let him stay," Snape said roughly. "He needs to know."

Albus gestured to the only other remaining armchair. Severus shook his head, so the headmaster settled himself in it instead. "I take it things did not go well tonight."

"An understatement," the elder Snape replied, clasping his hands together to conceal a lingering tremor. "Yaxley tried to put the Imperius curse on a Ministry official and ended up putting him in a coma. The Dark Lord is beyond enraged. He also asked me if there was a way to bring down the anti-Apparition wards on the castle. He was less than pleased with my response."

He paused. "There is more. It concerns Lupin." Severus clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp. "The Dark Lord has learned of his temporary residence in Hogsmeade with Aberforth and stint as substitute teacher. Greyback does not trust Lupin, but apparently Lupin has convinced him that he is playing the part of the tame werewolf while stalking his prey. The Dark Lord is not so easily fooled, but Yaxley and I served tonight to divert his attention."

Albus looked concerned. "Do you have any thoughts on how Remus should proceed? His standing in the werewolf community could prove crucial at a future date."

Severus watched the two men whisper and plot for a few minutes. Dumbledore declared, "This is quite urgent. I must summon Remus at once and warn him. Perhaps a few days back with the pack will reassure both Greyback and Voldemort." He paused and considered the professor's wretched condition. "I would prefer to have him speak to you personally, but I believe I have enough information to be going on with. Get some rest, Severus. Would you like for me to arrange for a substitute for your morning classes?"

The man managed a weak glare. "That will not be necessary."

Dumbledore shook his head at the man's recalcitrance. He then seemed to remember the student's presence. "Mister Snape. It is far past curfew. Professor Snape and I are both grateful for your assistance tonight. I am certain you have much to discuss with one another, but do not allow your dormitory bed to grow too cold. Do hold out your wrist." The student obeyed, and Dumbledore tapped it with his wand. A thin glowing band of gold appeared. "I have given you authorization to travel back to your dorm tonight. Show this if you are stopped. Do not tarry long, since it will disappear within the hour." His expression grew grave. "I cannot stress the seriousness of what you have witnessed tonight. Secrecy is paramount. A single whisper in the wrong ear could bring about the deaths of many." He clapped the boy on his shoulder. "But enough melancholy! Do speak to your professor and then get some sleep. Tomorrow is yet another busy day!" He tossed in some powder, stepped through the Floo, and was gone.

Severus stared at his older self for a full minute. "You're a spy."

The professor's lips curled up slightly. "Clever boy."

"Why?"

Professor Snape chuckled darkly, but the sound quickly turned to coughing. He brought a handkerchief to his lips, and Severus was alarmed to see it become tinged with red. "Isn't that the million-galleon question?" He suddenly looked overwhelmingly tired. "I must confess that I was not pleased when you first arrived. I was thinking only of what an inconvenience you would be and how you may come to cause me shame and discomfort. You reminded me of a dark period in my life which I vastly preferred to forget. Although you have caused more than your fair share of trouble, you have proved yourself to be a pleasure to teach and an asset to Slytherin House. I have come to realize that you are my second chance. I have made so many mistakes and have done terrible things. You represent the potential that I wasted and perverted. You can become what I have always meant to be." He abruptly leaned forward and pulled up the student's left sleeve, reverently caressing the unblemished forearm. Both Snapes locked eyes. Professor's Snape's gaze was burning with urgency. "Never take the Dark Mark! Never!"

"What happened?" Severus asked, settling into the armchair vacated by the headmaster. "I've had my heart set on being a Death Eater for some time now. What happened to change your mind?"

The professor sank back in his own chair, weariness overtaking him once more. "I'm sure you recall how things went with Lily. She wouldn't even speak to me after the name I called her by the lake. It hurt horribly, but I deluded myself. At first I thought she'd be impressed when I became a powerful wizard. When it became apparent that wasn't the case, I pretended that she didn't matter to me. The Dark Lord promised me glory for my accomplishments and punishment to my enemies. For a time, I was happy. The Death Eaters gave me a place to belong and to showcase my talents. For once, I was appreciated for what I could do. No one was there to scold me, ignore me or hold me back." He sighed heavily. "Then things gradually changed. I had been asked to develop potions, which I did gladly. I suspected they would be used for torture, but still I pretended otherwise.

"One day I was forced to watch as a woman's insides were torn apart by one of my creations. She was a witch who had defied the Dark Lord. She died in agony, very much aware of what was happening to her. Fortunately, I was able to hold my stomach until after the meeting ended. Even afterward, I still lied to myself. I told myself that witches and wizards weren't his true adversaries, and they just got in the way.

"Fortunately, or not, the Dark Lord soon found another use for my talents. He wished to have a spy close to Dumbledore, so he sent me to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position. Apparently he himself had tried at one point but was turned away. It appeared that I was not the only one have an interview that night. I did not see the woman, but I heard her voice… she made a prophecy, a very important one regarding the Dark Lord. I was not permitted to hear it in its entirety, but it did not matter; I could not get back to him fast enough.

"It was the worst mistake I ever made, besides joining him in the first place. The Dark Lord interpreted the prophecy as referring to a baby. Lily's baby. I cared little for the child and even less for Potter, but I still cared very deeply for Lily and did not want her to come to harm. It was the lowest point of my life. I approached Dumbledore and begged him to do something. In exchange for keeping the Potters safe, I agreed to become his spy. In a way, it also gave me a chance to pay back the life debt with Potter that had so irked me. Though I must confess that I found Voldemort's desire to target him as divine justice, since part of the reason I joined the Death Eaters in the first place was for protection against the Marauders.

"Once I had declared my true loyalties to my heart, it was as if a veil had been lifted from my eyes. I had been blind. The Dark Lord had indeed offered me power and acceptance, but at a great cost. What good were his boons if the world would shun me for what I had become? I was much worse off than I had been before. Now I was not only a swotty freak, I was evil and corrupted too. Lily had been right all along.

"The first few months were terrifying. I practiced my Occlumency constantly, but I was certain that he would catch me out somehow. But my natural gift for twisting the truth served me in good stead. Dumbledore allowed me to become a professor, but of Potions. I would prefer to teach Defense simply because the brats find it more interesting and would hopefully pay attention; plus I could teach them to actually defend themselves, but I am not as disappointed as I have let on to the world. I apply every year for Defense simply as a ruse; a reason to pretend to be dissatisfied with Dumbledore.

"Unfortunately, despite all of my hard work and Dumbledore's efforts, the Potters were killed." He swallowed heavily. Severus sat quietly, allowing his counterpart to speak unimpeded. This was plainly something that he needed to get off his chest. "Needless to say, I was devastated. Lily had been everything to me, much as I tried to deny it, and without her I felt that I had no reason to go on. Albus persuaded me to watch over her son in her memory, which I have done. The brat is just as arrogant and careless as his father, and delights in throwing himself into danger and expecting others to pick up the pieces."

Severus looked upset. "I thought you had everything I could ever want. Spacious quarters decorated to your taste, house elves to provide food and tidy up, a Potions lab and private ingredient stores, lots of rare and fascinating books…."

Snape shot him a penetrating look. "I couldn't be more miserable. I would give it up in a heartbeat if it could reverse all the bad decisions I've made. In fact, some nights I wish I had let that wretched werewolf finish me off. Better to be dead than live like this." He looked longingly at a nearly empty bottle of port. He didn't dare drink after all the potions he had imbibed, but how he ached for the gentle haze that it bestowed; how it smoothed the edges of his pain-filled world. He hated that he had become a lush just like his bastard father, but he'd take anything that made his life easier to bear.

The boy looked disturbed and clearly upset. His life had not been very happy – his mother and Lily had been its two bright spots. He had hoped for so much better by joining the Death Eaters, but apparently that had only brought more misery. Were they both doomed to eternal unhappiness?

He caught sight of the clock. The pass that Dumbledore gave him may not be good much longer. There was so much he needed to know, and precious little time left. "How can you stand to work with Dumbledore? And Lupin?"

Snape grimaced. "Believe me, it has not been easy. Amongst the Death Eaters, I am at least admired and appreciated for my talents, although I can no longer stand to be around my cohorts. Dumbledore has founded the Order of the Phoenix, which is a secret organization to fight the Death Eaters. As you can imagine, it is filled with foolhardy Gryffindors. Because my double-agent status is so precarious, most of the Order members are unconvinced that I am truly loyal. That is simply how it needs to be, but it rankles that I am hated by the ones that I have sacrificed so much to help, while I am accepted by those that I have betrayed."

"That's awful," Severus whispered.

Snape stared at his lap. "There is no way out for me, save death, which I face every time I am Summoned. I am ill-used by both sides. The Dark Lord is obviously quick to punish, so you can imagine how he will react if my treachery comes to light. The Order pretends to be better, but most do not trust me – some are more vocal about it than others, but it is quite clear that few would be disappointed were something to happen to me. Belonging to the Order is a risk for them, but they are not asked to compromise themselves. I have been asked to do terrible things in the name of the Order, while at the end of the day the others can go home with a clear conscience. I do their dirty work; I take the risks and get nothing but derision as thanks."

"And you need my help to determine which Slytherins are loyal to the Dark Lord. I thought you had been asking for recruiting purposes."

"The exact opposite, actually. I've been subtly trying to discourage them from joining the Death Eaters, but many of the students have relatives who are members, or who are so disgruntled with the current system that they are willing lambs for the slaughter. I hate to get you involved, but you already are, simply by virtue of your identity. Would you be willing to help me in some small way? Could you try to steer them away from the Dark Lord's cause? A few words of doubt from a peer may be all it takes. However, you must be extremely cautious. Both the Order and Hogwarts itself have harbored spies in the past. One wrong word could doom us both."

"I can do that. Suddenly the urge to 'eat death' is no longer as prevalent. But it sucks that you have to work with people that hate you. What about the Marauders? I imagine that they're part of the Order too? And is it really awful having Dumbledore as a boss?"

"Potter is dead, of course. Black died just last year. Good riddance, though the Potter brat has been unbearable ever since. Lupin, as you've seen, is alive, though rather the worse for wear. He is now trying to drum what little bits of Defensive magic he can into the students' thick-headed skulls, whenever he is given the opportunity to substitute. As you've heard tonight, he is trying to infiltrate the werewolf community to prevent them from siding with Voldemort. And you'll never believe what happened with Pettigrew. I myself did not find this out until fairly recently. Pettigrew actually betrayed his friends by siding with the Dark Lord, thus causing their deaths. I'd laugh, but since his actions brought about Lily's death, I'd prefer to strangle him. Slowly."

"And Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore can frequently be quite infuriating. Someone else I'd like to strangle. However, he has been extremely supportive of me when no one else has. Almost everything I have today, including my freedom from Azkaban, I owe to him. I occasionally resent what he asks of me, but I am the one who got myself into this situation and he is allowing me to atone. He asks very difficult but necessary tasks of me, and I can only oblige." It was Snape's turn to eye the clock. "You'd best be getting back."

"What about you? Will you be all right?"

"I'll manage," he said grimly. "I always have."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

A few days later, he and Granger were in Defense class, eagerly awaiting the results of their paper. They were both very proud of their Protego Absorbeo spell. The class was filled with groans and grumbles as the students reviewed the professor's remarks. "It's a miracle we finished at all!" Ron grumbled. "Think we deserve full marks for not killing each other."

Harry agreed, "This nearly was real-life Defense preparation. I can't tell you how many times Nott and I came close to hexing each other."

Hermione and Severus crowded together to review their marks. Their eyes darted over the page together, taking it in. Their eager looks faded into stunned shock. Severus gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. Hermione's eyes welled with tears. She gave a great sob and dashed from the classroom. "Hermione!" Ron cried.

Severus was as still as a statue. He didn't even seem to blink. Draco worried that he might faint again. He finally turned and walked out of the classroom in a daze, still clutching the parchment.

"Class has not been dismissed!" Kirby exclaimed angrily. "Ten points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin."

The class fidgeted impatiently, waiting for class to end. They were cross about their marks, but most of all they were curious about what had happened with Granger and Snape. Their friends were quite concerned. Once they were finally dismissed, Draco gathered Snape's belongings. They had expected to find him back in the dorm, but he was not there. On his bed lay the crumpled paper, along with an empty wine bottle.

"Listen to this!" Draco exclaimed.

_Mister Snape and Miss Granger,_

_I am sorely disappointed by this miserable effort that you have presented to me. Surely you do not expect me to believe that you invented a spell simply for the purpose of this exercise. Plagiarism is a serious offense and is grounds for expulsion from Hogwarts. I will be conferring with your Heads of House to alert them to this most grave infraction. Needless to say, you will receive a failing grade for this assignment._

"Is he serious?" Theo Nott gasped.

"Sure looks like it," Draco agreed. "Kirby's not exactly the most polished wand, is he? If you put the two biggest eggheads in the school together, you're not going to get some daft paper on the hazards of keeping your wand in your back pocket!"

"We'd better take this to Professor Snape," Zabini declared.

"What about that?" Crabbe asked, pointing to the wine bottle.

"Evanesco!" With a flourish of Draco's wand, the incriminating evidence disappeared.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Professor Kirby knocked on the door to the Deputy Headmistress' office. It swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall. "Do come in," she said, her mouth set in a stern line.

"Good afternoon, Minerva," he said respectfully. "I have a grave matter to discuss with you and Professor Snape. He does not seem to be in his office, so…. Ah, Severus, there you are. Excellent. I was hoping to get you both together."

"Yes, do fill us in, Edward," the Head of Slytherin House said, his black eyes glittering with menace.

"I have come to discuss a paper that was turned in for my class by Mister Snape and Miss Granger."

"Do you mean this?" The black-garbed man held aloft the crumpled essay.

"Ah, yes, precisely."

"I imagine this is to blame for Miss Granger's state? She was found in the bathroom haunted by Moaning Myrtle. For once the ghost was surprised to see someone crying harder than her. She is now in the Hospital Wing receiving treatment for hysteria."

"Mister Snape is also in the Hospital Wing," Professor Snape said with an accusing glare, "after drinking himself into a stupor." He should have known to check the contents of that trunk more carefully. "He had been missing for hours, but fortunately I knew where to look."

"Most distressing, to be sure," said Kirby, wringing his hands. "But surely they knew the price of plagiarism. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time, that's what I always say."

"And just what makes you think that this is not original work?" Minerva asked, fighting to keep the anger out of her voice.

"Isn't it obvious? Spell creation is far beyond the capabilities of a Sixth-Year. They obviously found a text on the creation of this certain spell and copied down the process used."

"And you were able to find the text they plagiarized?" Snape asked coolly.

"Well… no, but I haven't looked."

"Forgive me, Edward," McGonagall said sternly. "I agree that this is a very advanced and ambitious paper, but Miss Granger and Mister Snape are extraordinary students. I am certain that their collaboration would result in something remarkable."

Severus folded his arms. "May I also remind you that Mister Snape is a younger version of myself, so I know his capabilities quite well. I invented spells and potions much earlier than Sixth Year."

Minerva continued, "Generally any concerns about a student's performance are discussed with his or her Head of House, and if the accusations warrant, the matter may then be brought to the attention of the Headmaster. I must confess that I am upset by how this matter was handled, Edward. If you had gone through the proper channels, the well-being of two students could have been spared."

Kirby sensed that he was being out-maneuvered. "Perhaps we should then take this matter to the Headmaster?"

Dumbledore looked up in surprise as the three professors entered his room. "Minerva, Severus, Edward, what a pleasant surprise. It's not often I get so many visitors."

Minerva helped herself to a lemon drop. "Unfortunately, Albus, this isn't a social call."

"Well, then, perhaps it should be. It would be nice to get together and just enjoy a nice cup of tea." He gestured to the teapot, but they shook their heads in refusal. "Very well, then. I'm curious to see what drama has involved my Defense professor and two Heads of House."

Severus handed the headmaster the paper in question as Kirby explained his evaluation of the essay. "Inventing spells is simply unheard of at the pre-NEWTS level. This work has plainly been plagiarized." Severus wearily explained again, for Dumbledore's benefit, his youthful habit of inventing spells.

After all three professors had had a say, Dumbledore smiled at them. "Would any of you object to having another expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts review this paper?"

No one had any objections, though Severus scowled darkly when Dumbledore used the Floo to summon Professor Lupin. The headmaster used a quick spell to conceal the students' names and Kirby's comments. "Do let me know what you think of this, Remus."

The assembled professors tried not to fidget too much as Lupin read over the essay. "Remarkable piece of work," he concluded. "Very advanced."

"How advanced would this be?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's definitely beyond the level of what is taught at Hogwarts."

"Do you think that a Hogwarts student would be capable of inventing this spell and documenting it in this essay?"

Remus' gaze became unfocused as he began to think. "There are a fair number of students in this school who excel at Defense. I do not know if any of them have the ingenuity to create spells, but then again, I only taught them at a lower level. I can certainly tell you who the best Defense pupils are: Potter, Granger, Ginny Weasley, Montague, Snape, Warrington, Davies, Boot, Bones, and Smith. However, the only ones who I would expect to understand the inner workings of spells and have sufficient patience to invent their own would be Hermione Granger or Severus Snape."

Severus smirked, but sensing Lupin watching him, turned to stare at the wall.

"Excellent deductive work, Remus!" Albus praised him. With a wave of his wand, he restored the parchment. Lupin gaped at the professor's comments. "You accused them of cheating?" he asked Kirby, looking gobsmacked.

Kirby folded his arms. "And why is that so hard to believe?"

Lupin's expression hardened. "I may only have a single year of teaching experience, but I can tell the difference between brilliant original work and a blatant rip-off. Miss Granger and Mister Snape are the most innovative and clever students I have ever known. I may not have had Mister Snape in my class, but I attended school with him and am very familiar with his capabilities. These two students excel in Defense and could very easily have written an essay on an existing spell. The fact that they chose to invent their own is worthy of praise, not censorship."

"Even if their work is genuine, as you say, they still did not follow the guidelines set forward for the assignment. I would still give them a failing grade."

"Do enlighten us, Edward," said Dumbledore, peering through his half-moon spectacles. "What were the guidelines?"

"The students were to write a paper discussing and deconstructing the spell of their choice. The main point was to explain what made a spell effective and how it could be best implemented."

"This paper does exactly that," Lupin pointed out. "They clearly describe what steps they took to invent the spell, how to use it, and how it improves upon the standard Shield Charm. Unless you gave them specifics, such as to only choose an existing spell or to only reference spells contained in the books from the Hogwarts library, I don't see how this essay violates your specifications."

"Perhaps it would be beneficial for Mister Snape and Miss Granger to provide a brief oral presentation and demonstration on the spell," Dumbledore mused. "This way we can judge their familiarity with the work and determine if this is indeed their unique creation."

"The students in question are unfortunately in the Hospital wing," Snape growled. Lupin and Dumbledore looked alarmed. Minerva confirmed, "They both had a near-breakdown after receiving news of their marks."

"Do you mean to tell me that you've already accused them of plagiarism?" Dumbledore definitely no longer looked twinkly. Severus took a perverse sort of pleasure in it.

Kirby shrank away slightly. "I did already return the graded essays, yes."

"This is very serious indeed. Minerva, Severus, please check on your students for me and give them my best wishes. Once they are well enough to bear it, we will all gather together to see their presentation. Unfortunately, since the authenticity of their essay is in doubt, they cannot be provided with any forewarning."

Once their impromptu meeting was over, the two Heads of House headed to the infirmary. Hermione was out cold, exhausted from her crying jag. Severus lay still on the bed, staring blindly at the wall. McGonagall had a few words with the mediwitch as Professor Snape approached the stricken student's bed.

"Mister Snape."

The young man sat up. "Professor Snape, sir."

"Professor McGonagall and I have been informed of the issue regarding your final Defense paper."

The Slytherin looked worried and bone-tired. "Are we to be expelled?"

"The matter is being discussed with the Headmaster; however, expulsion does not seem likely at this current juncture. Rest, and we will discuss this at a future date."

"I want to have this resolved as quickly as possible. May I speak with you tomorrow?"

"If Miss Granger is well, we would like to speak to you both."

The next day, Snape and Granger met with their respective Heads of House. Both students looked weary but determined to clear their names. In short order, they were able to gather the necessary parties, so by the time the students were escorted to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore, Kirby and Lupin were waiting. They were both startled at the gathering, since they hadn't expected quite so many people. Lupin smiled reassuringly at them – Hermione smiled back, but Severus scowled in mistrust.

"Good morning to you, Mister Snape and Miss Granger. Lemon drop?" Hermione took one, but Severus turned his nose up at the dish. "I trust you feel a bit more refreshed. I would prefer to grant you more rest before proceeding, but I understand that you are eager to get underway."

"What do you need from us?" Young Mister Snape resembled a skittish colt, his eyes darting around the room nervously.

"I am sorry to have to spring this on you, but we would like to have you and Miss Granger do an impromptu oral presentation on your essay. It does not have to be perfect and you will not be graded. We would just like to get a feel for your familiarity with the subject material."

Hermione shrank back in her seat, paling. "Shall I begin?" Severus asked her. "No, I don't mind going first," she said, lifting her chin determinedly. With a flourish of his wand, Dumbledore's chair sprouted wheels and rolled to the side, so that Hermione could easily face her audience. Albus gestured invitingly to the other side of the desk. Hermione stepped behind it warily.

"For our Defense project, Mister Snape and I have created a new defensive spell called the Absorbing Shield charm. The incantation is _Protego Absorbeo_. Severus is more familiar with spell creation than I, so we decided to improve upon an existing spell rather than create one entirely from scratch.

"The Absorbing Shield charm is an improvement over the standard Shield charm, which deflects hexes and curses. That basic charm protects the caster but has several drawbacks; chiefly that the rebounding curse could harm others, and that the caster must also maintain the charm while launching an offensive attack."

Snape stood to stand beside her. "The charm is ideal to protect those who are not of age or are not strong enough to cast their own Shield charm. If a sufficiently powerful witch or wizard is on hand, he or she can cast the charm for them. Since the shield absorbs spells, any attacks will reinforce the shield, thus increasing the protection provided. The caster is then free to launch an offensive attack without sparing energy to maintain the shield. The caster may also use the shield himself if he is not in a position to fight back; if he is injured or trapped, he can save his energy without having to regenerate the shield with his own magic."

They took turns, describing the components used to create the new spell, which components made the new spell superior to its predecessor, and the bibliographical references that helped to analyze, create and refine the spell. It was quite clear that both students had an intimate familiarity with the spell's components and function.

Dumbledore raised a hand. "Thank you both. You have done quite well on such short notice. We have much to discuss but we hope to have a resolution to this matter soon – I will have to ask you to wait in Professor McGonagall's office in the meantime."

The students filed out, giving each other nervous glances. They would have vastly preferred to visit the library, but that would be too far away from Dumbledore's office if they were to be called back. Hermione sat in a chair, kicking her legs restlessly. Severus paced, touching objects that were of interest until Hermione scowled at him.

"What do you think will happen if we get expelled?" Hermione asked softly.

Severus shrugged. "I can brew potions for a living. I won't be able to get a decent job without NEWT credentials, but I'm good enough to get a low-level job somewhere and hopefully work my way up. I bet Professor Snape knows lots of brewers and apothecaries. Maybe he'll have some suggestions."

Hermione stared at her shoes. "I'm Muggleborn. I don't have any ties to this world other than those I've made myself. I love my parents but I'd hate to go back home after seeing what I'm capable of here. But what else could I do? Who would hire a nobody with an incomplete education?"

Snape walked over to the window and stared morosely at the grounds. "At least you've got friends that care about you. They'd probably figure something out. And I seriously doubt that McGonagall would let you just fade away into Muggle society. It weren't for Professor Snape, I wouldn't have anyone. I'm used to taking care of myself, but I never expected to have to fend for myself before graduation." He shrugged again. "Why worry about it before it happens? Professor Snape thought that expulsion was unlikely."

They both jumped as Dumbledore's head appeared in the lit fireplace. "I hope we haven't been keeping you children waiting too long. Please join us in my office." They both exchanged nervous glances.

They reached the office within minutes, entering like convicts who have just been handed the death sentence. "Don't look so gloomy!" Dumbledore said merrily. "You have done exceptionally well. We have determined that your efforts are not only original work but are worthy of the highest praise. Were this to be a NEWT exam, you would receive an O. You have each received extra credit points and will likely end up with a near-perfect grade in the course." Hermione squealed and hugged Severus. Severus looked horrified. Professor Snape looked disgusted, while the others were distinctly amused.

Professor Kirby snarled and stormed out of the room. "Time to find another Defense professor, Albus?" Minerva asked a bit wearily.

"Yes. A pity that I have two fine candidates in this very room that I must turn away." Lupin shrugged ruefully. Professor Snape folded his arms and stared pointedly at the wall. "But let us not dwell on that now. I believe that congratulations are in order for Miss Granger and Mister Snape. Twenty points each for a job well done."

Hermione grinned. Severus sniffed but was pleased nonetheless. They had done it.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Severus arrived at the rooms of his Head of House, hoping for another pleasant night of stimulating intellectual conversation. Precious little of that commodity was available from his peers, and though his older counterpart was surrounded by professors who were experts in their field, none seemed to have the in-depth knowledge of Potions and Defense to match wits with him.

Curfew was approaching, but he was hoping that the professor would grant him an audience, at least for a few minutes. But tonight he was in for a disappointment, for there was a notice on the door that Professor Snape had fallen ill and could not be disturbed for any reason. All House-related matters were to be referred to Professor Sinistra, and any maladies should be addressed to Madame Pomfrey.

Odd. The man had seemed perfectly fine that afternoon. Perhaps he had food poisoning. Or maybe he had been Summoned again and was dealing with the after-effects of the Cruciatus. It couldn't be too serious; otherwise he was certain that Professor Snape would be in the hospital wing.

He waffled in front of the door for a few minutes, then finally seizing his courage, he exclaimed "Paracelsus!" and the door slid open. If the man was ill, then certainly he could use some help. He stepped into the darkened sitting room. With a wordless spell, the tip of his wand lit up to guide the way. He walked down the corridor to the bedroom, his heart thumping in his chest. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Gryffindors were usually the ones who rushed in where angels feared to tread. But he had already come this far, and he should probably see if Snape was all right before turning back.

He stepped gingerly into the bedroom, where a solitary candle was lit. He was somehow not particularly surprised to see a few empty wine bottles scattered around the floor. The man himself lay in the bed, his black hair spread across the pillow like a halo, framing his pale face. His heart wrenched to see tear tracks on the cheeks. Something was clutched in a limp hand. Severus tugged on it gently until it slid out of the man's grasp. It was a photo, a moving one, of Severus and Lily posing in front of the Hogwarts Express before their very first train ride to Hogwarts.

The figure on the bed stirred. Black eyes open and met his own. Severus felt his heart squeeze. The gaze was so full of loneliness and despair. "You should not be here," the professor rasped in weak protest.

"I think I should." He studied the picture. He and Lily had been so happy and eager to embark on this new chapter of their lives. Little did they know how it would tear them apart.

"I miss her," the man whispered.

"So do I." It had not been long since Severus had last seen her, but she had been lost to him all the same.

"I've been thinking a lot. About her, and about my life in general. I think I finally figured things out. She was too good for me. Even if I hadn't become a Death Eater, I don't think I could have given her what she needed. I can't fault her for wanting someone else, but the fact that she chose Potter just eats away at me like acid. Sometimes I wonder if he didn't somehow trick or coerce her, but maybe she just saw something in him that I never did."

"The way she saw in us," Severus confirmed.

"Yes, but she saw the truth about us before long. We were too dark for her. We would have smothered her light. She needed someone like her. After observing people and events, I have finally formulated a theory. There are beautiful people in this world, and then there are the dregs. There is not enough Love or Good in the world, so it goes to the beautiful people. These people find life easy – everyone loves them, and they can literally get away with murder. Lily is someone who deserved to be a beautiful person, because she had a beautiful soul. Other beautiful people who I have known but perhaps did not always deserve that status are James Potter, Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy. I have fought so hard to be appreciated for my intelligence and skill, but I get nothing but scorn and disrespect. I think it is because I am a dreg and there is no love left in the world for those like me. My darkness has corrupted me."

Severus hoped that it was the wine talking, but he strongly suspected otherwise. Sometimes he did feel like the 'beautiful people' (usually Gryffindors) got everything while others like him had to struggle in frustrated silence. He had fervently believed that the Death Eaters would be a ticket out of that life, but obviously he had just become mired in the same old rut. Maybe they were both indulging in emo melodrama, but it hurt just the same.

"Mum always loved us."

"Yes, she did." The man's voice was immeasurably sad. "Until I joined the Death Eaters. Father drank himself to death one night, so no loss there. Good riddance. Mum disowned me and moved out after I got the Mark. I haven't heard from her since. I don't even know if she's alive. She has no idea that I'm a spy. For all I know, she died cursing my name."

Severus had no idea now to react to that. His eyes darted around the room, looking for inspiration for something, anything, to say to distract his older self from his maudlin mood. He noticed a dark-green beaker sitting on the nightstand that had most certainly not been there before. "This is poison hemlock!" he cried. "You weren't thinking of drinking this, were you?"

Snape gave a derisive laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. "Thinking of it, yes. But I will not, at least not until my task has been discharged. It would be cowardly to drink it just to avoid the misery that I brought upon myself. The Potter boy must be protected until he becomes of age and defeats the Dark Lord. Then my life will be my own, to live or to end as I see fit. It is virtually impossible that I will survive to see the end, so this poison reminds me that my suffering may soon be over."

"You don't want to survive the war?"

"If I could survive the war and be allowed to get on with my life on my own terms, then yes, I would not mind surviving. But that is not how things work for people like me. One side or another would find a way to persecute me. If the Dark Lord learned of my treachery, he would take delight in making me an object lesson to his followers. If the Order won but my true affiliation was not known, I would be thrown into Azkaban and quite likely be given the Dementor's Kiss."

"Is there something tonight in particular that upset you?"

Snape turned his gaze to the bedspread, unable to meet the boy's eyes. "The Order had a member called Emmeline Vance. I liked her well enough – she was easier to deal with than some of the other members. But in order to keep the illusion of loyalty to the Dark Lord, I must provide him with inside information on the Order members. I divulged Vance's location to the Death Eaters. I had prayed that she would reach a safe-house in time, but my hopes were in vain. She died a very messy, painful death. I am only grateful that I was not on hand to witness it, though it would be a fitting punishment if I were forced to watch."

"Does Dumbledore know?"

The elder Severus laughed hollowly. "He was the one who told me to do it. So yes, he knows. He probably feels guilty about her death too, but he can spout his garbage about it being for the greater good. He says that nothing, save Potter's life, should be more valuable to me than maintaining my cover. Easy for him to say. He doesn't have to watch the torture and killings. They beg me for mercy, you know. They beg me. As if I can help them somehow." He closed his mouth abruptly, choking off a sob that had welled up. "The Order members think they are all so brave. Dumbledore knows what they do not. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is watch someone in trouble and do nothing."

The student scowled. "Dumbledore is just using you."

"Of course he is. But at least he and I both know it. I've agreed that it is my penance for becoming a Death Eater in the first place. At least I can hope that my efforts will pay off somehow. Voldemort uses me too, and he would not hesitate to kill me were I to cease my usefulness."

Severus clambered up on the bed and sat next to his professor. "It can't really be that bad, can it? Surely there's someone that cares about you."

Snape looked at him with tears in his eyes. "Who would ever want me?"

Severus was frozen. What should he do? It was obvious that his older self was coming apart at the seams with no one to turn to. He thought far back to the nights at Spinner's End, when he would wake up screaming from nightmares. This had become much more frequent since the run-in with the werewolf. Even now, when he was far too big for such treatment, his mother would sit on his bed and place his head in her lap, smoothing his hair until he had calmed. After a beating from Father, the little boy used to cry and cry. The tears had long since dried up, buried under the years of cynicism and pain, but sometimes her caring hands brought them to the surface. He was always ashamed to show such weakness, but she made it all right.

Hoping he wasn't about to get hexed, he moved the man's head into his lap and smoothed his hair back behind his ears. The loving gesture, so reminiscent of his absent mother, was enough to shatter whatever meager defenses Snape had left. The man sobbed quietly, sounding for all the world like a man at the end of his rope. Even his tears were full of defeat and despair. For him, the tears were not cleansing, but an expression of his utter hopelessness. Severus wept a bit too, tears sliding silently down his cheeks. He cried for them both. How could things have ever gotten so bad?

Once the tears were spent, Professor Snape lay motionless for a few minutes. He finally pushed himself to a sitting position and fumbled for a handkerchief. Severus passed him his own while surreptitiously wiping his own eyes with his sleeve. The man blew his nose and dried his eyes, then stared down at the covers, not knowing what to say. He looked an absolute mess, with bloodshot eyes and blotchy face. "I should not have done that," he whispered. "My burdens are mine to bear alone. Your only concerns should be the NEWTs and who will win the House Cup."

"Hardly," Severus snorted. "Your problems *are* mine, if only for me to know how to avoid them."

"I believe I have had too much to drink," the man said stiffly. Severus stifled a smile. If Professor Snape wanted to blame his emotional outburst on the drink, that was fine with him. More like it had lowered his inhibitions enough to properly express them. They both sometimes used drink as a balm to dull the pain in their lives, but sometimes it just left them more vulnerable to their misery. "You will, of course, tell no one of this."

"Who would I tell?"

"I'm serious. Not even Dumbledore or any of those bleeding-heart Gryffindors."

"Do they know that you get this way sometimes?"

"No. I usually wait 'till I'm back at home to go on a bender and have my emo sobfest. But things have been especially bad this year, and I fully expect them to only get worse. This is something that happens to me from time to time – if I don't decompress somehow, I feel that I will lose my mind. Dumbledore does occasionally become concerned about my mental state, but I do not confide in him any more than is absolutely necessary. I will tell him the facts of my meetings with the Dark Lord but I try to spare him the graphic details of what he does to me or to his chosen victims." His voice became soft, and Severus sensed that he was embarrassed about having his emotions overwhelm him. "Albus has only seen me like this once, just after the Potters were killed. I felt that I had lost all reason to live, and I confess that I rather went to pieces. Now that I have a purpose and a goal to work toward, I vowed that I would not burden him further with my personal problems." He snorted derisively. "You must think I'm terribly weak."

"Not at all," Severus protested. "I don't know how you find the strength to carry on like you have. I don't think I could handle it."

"You'll find you can handle almost anything if you've got no choice."

"There's still something you're not telling me."

"You always were a bright boy." Professor Snape looked at him askance. "There is something that upset me tonight, even more than Vance's death." He swallowed hard. "The Dark Lord is always interested in new recruits. He will be holding a special gathering to inspect the newest group of Death Eaters in training. It is virtually certain that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott will be attending." His voice became thick. "He is most interested in meeting you."

"If he just wants to meet me, there's no harm in it, is there? Surely he won't try to Mark us on the spot."

"I won't even let him set eyes on you!" the professor said furiously. "I'll tell him that your molecules destabilized and you no longer exist. I'll think of something that will be believable."

"Then won't I have to go into hiding? I thought you wanted a better life for me. How can I if you won't let me live it?" The manic glint faded from the man's eyes. He knew that he was grasping at straws, and that his student was right. "Let me join the Death Eaters. This way I can spy with you. You can't possibly be everywhere, right? I'm sure that I can help. Two spies are better than one."

"Never!" Snape roared, seizing him by the shoulders. Severus flinched, as if expecting a blow. The man forced himself to pull back. "I won't let him have you. I swear it!" He took a deep, cleansing breath. "Let's just take this one day at a time. Taking you to the meeting may not be a bad idea. It will reinforce my loyalty and show that you too are interested in the Death Eaters. But I absolutely will not allow you to take the Mark. Once you're Marked, you're Marked for life." Black eyes seared the boy's soul. "You've given me new hope, Severus. I can bear anything so long as you are safe and free of the Dark Lord's clutches. Were he to gain control of you, all would be lost."

"What about Draco and the others?"

"I sincerely hope that they will not take the Mark, but family and peer influence will likely win out in the end. I have tried to quietly dissuade them, and I will continue to protect them even if they are Marked, but it is virtually a done deed."

"What do you think the Dark Lord will do next?"

Professor Snape looked grave. "I feel that he is poised to take over the Ministry, and through it, Hogwarts. If Hogwarts were to fall, he would no longer have need of my services as spy. I fear that I will soon have to make a display of loyalty to him and take my place at his side, or else reveal myself as a traitor. Dumbledore feels that it is crucial that I follow the Dark Lord so that I may destabilize his plans from the inside. I have found it difficult to sleep of late, for I am certain that I will be asked to do something utterly unspeakable to bind myself to him as his most faithful servant and useful advisor. If that comes to pass, I will need to keep my Occlumency shields at full strength. I will be surrounded by my enemies at all times, with death just a heartbeat away. The merest whisper of a disloyal thought would be disastrous. I will do it – I must – but I fear that it will tear me apart."

Words failed him. Not knowing what to say, Severus entwined his fingers with the hand that lay limply on the bed. And wonder of wonders, the man's lips curled with the ghost of a smile. "Live your life, Severus Snape. Do not worry about me. I am a survivor."

"I don't think you should be alone tonight," the boy said stubbornly.

"Nonsense. I will be fine. I've got a very large stock of hangover remedy, so you will see me in Potions class tomorrow."

"I'm not leaving while that is still here." He gestured to the deadly potion on the nightstand. "I'm going to put it back in the potion stores."

"If it disturbs you." Snape sounded amused but was nonetheless somewhat pleased by the concern. It was rare that he let anyone fuss over him. He had already allowed the young man, in such a short time, to know him more intimately than his oldest friend and colleagues. Somehow he had wormed his way into his life.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Ever since that night, Severus found himself becoming restless by nightfall. It was a very good thing that the school year was drawing toward a close, for his schoolwork seemed trivial and could not hold his attention. What did it matter what grade he got on a homework assignment, when a war raged outside? Professor Snape was waging his own private battle, with the Dark Lord, with the Order, and with his own battered defenses. He had no idea how the man had managed to stay undercover for so long under such stressful conditions. Granted, Snape had said that things had worsened only recently, but the man's fortitude was amazing nonetheless.

He had started on a few projects of his own. He was working to strengthen his own Occlumency shields and to find a safer Cruciatus treatment. Some nights he found he could not even concentrate on those tasks and took to wandering the halls. On one such night, he passed by a deserted classroom. No sound uttered from within, but he was certain that a crack of light shone from under the door. A couple's trysting place? He knelt and peered through the crack. He could see virtually nothing, but a few bright flashes were visible. Spells. Was someone dueling?

He jumped to his feet and opened the door. Maybe a Slytherin was being attacked, or maybe some miscreants were showing off. Either way, someone was causing trouble, and it peeved him. The door creaked open, and heads swiveled to look at him. Many heads. Much more than he had anticipated. What was going on here?

The center figure turned, and his breath caught in his throat. He'd know that shabbily-dressed cardigan-sporting figure anywhere. "Hello, Mister Snape," Lupin said pleasantly. "I see you've found our dueling practice."

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "You've formed a dueling club. And excluded Slytherin House. As usual." A quick glance around confirmed his suspicions. Not once single Slytherin had been invited.

Lupin looked uncomfortable, but covered it up with another smile. "You are quite right. It is not proper to exclude members based on House affiliation alone. We would be glad to have a Slytherin join us." Snape doubted it, judging from the faces that the other students made. "This is not a club to compare talents and compete, as existed in our school days. This get-together is to hone defensive combat skills."

"I have no need of such a club." He noticed Potter standing next to Lupin. How touching. The wolf had taken a protégé. He spun around on his heel, heading back out the door.

The ex-professor's voice was soft. "No, but we need you, Severus."

The young man paused and looked over his shoulder. "Do not insult me with lies."

"Surely you can see the purpose of our gatherings. These students have had a different Defense professor every year. The war comes ever closer, and no one is safe."

He sneered. "You have nothing to teach me."

Lupin continued, "Harry had a similar club last year, but he and Dumbledore felt that they would benefit from dueling lessons from multiple teachers. I have plenty of willing students, but few capable instructors. You're one of the best Defense students I know. I don't doubt that you could learn a few things – learning is a lifelong experience – but you definitely have a lot to teach. Will you join us?"

"These students don't like me or Professor Snape. They'd hex me behind my back if they thought they could get away with it. I don't owe any of you anything."

Lupin looked crafty. It made him nervous. "How about this, then? I'd like to show the students what a true duel looks like. I invite you to be my sparring partner. If I win, then you join the dueling club. If you win, then you may proceed as you wish. You will, of course, have bragging rights."

The boy's sneer grew, but it was obvious he was thinking it over. The offer was laughable. He had no desire to teach, and his fellow students had no desire to learn from him. He was a loner and liked it that way. But he couldn't deny that he was tempted to accept, just to see how good a duelist the wolf really was. He knew his chances of winning were slim, and it was awfully Slytherin of Lupin to make a bet when the other party was at a disadvantage, but it would be a fascinating learning experience. Plus he had a few spells he was itching to try out.

"We must lay the ground rules," he said firmly. "If I am to proceed with this ridiculous idea, it must be very clear what is and is not permitted; otherwise I will assume that my actions are acceptable." Lupin was not surprised. This was a common Slytherin attitude. "To start with, I will assume that unforgivable curses are not allowed. We must also refrain from maiming."

"Agreed. Since this is a duel for demonstration purposes, deadly force is forbidden. In a life-or-death conflict, I do recommend using any means at your disposal. Let us say that anything resulting in permanent damage or requiring more than a day or two in the infirmary is to be avoided."

Severus eyed him suspiciously. "That doesn't leave me with much."

"You'll have to make do. I apologize if you're not up to the challenge."

The Slytherin did not visibly react to the obvious baiting. "It is a challenge that I meet with no reservations. Let us begin."

Lupin gestured, and the students fanned out in a loose circle, watching avidly. Snape placed his belongings in the far corner of the room and approached the ex-professor. Most of the students seemed eager to watch Snape get thrashed, though a few did seem impressed by his chutzpah. They bowed to each other, though Snape did not lower his gaze. He knew the value of keeping an enemy within sight. After the formalities had been observed, they walked several paces and turned, holding their wands in customary dueling position.

"We will begin on three."

"If you cast any spells before three, you forfeit the duel," Potter said curtly.

Severus cast him a withering glare. "I'm not Malfoy." Harry idly wondered if he meant Draco, or if Lucius also had the habit of jumping the gun to gain an advantage. It wouldn't surprise him in the least.

"One… two… three!" They both moved at the same time, flourishing their wands in combat. Flashes of spells and curses lit the room like firecrackers. "Expelliarmus!" Lupin called, sending the wand skittering from Snape's hand, but he automatically called "Accio wand!", then took advantage of the man's surprise by launching an immediate offensive. The background noise rose to a loud murmur at the wandless spell.

The two duelists moved like elegant dancers in a dangerous waltz, alternately taking and giving ground as they systematically tested each other's weaknesses. Lupin directed a spell at Snape that sent him skidding into the wall; just when it looked like he would slam right into it, he jumped and pushed off the surface with his feet, then turned to repel a hex. Lupin artfully dodged while firing the counter-curse.

After exchanging a few volleys, Lupin shot a particularly powerful spell at him. It flew toward him at light speed. Rather than countering force with force, he snapped, "Reverto Impetus!" The spell bounced off his impromptu shield and promptly rebounded upon its caster, knocking Remus to the floor even as he nodded his approval. Severus lunged at him but Lupin quickly bounded to his feet, so now Snape was the one fighting for balance. The hex he fired at the werewolf missed its mark and hurtled to the spectators, who screamed and tried to dodge out of the way. "Protego absorbeo!" Severus gasped as he landed on his shoulder and rolled before springing back up. An invisible protection formed around those closest to the wayward curse; the shield crackled as the spell impacted and was absorbed. Hermione whooped and applauded loudly. It was exhilarating to see their invention put to practical use.

The spectators were mesmerized. The duelists feinted, lunged, attacked, and ducked. The duel that took place during Harry's second year was uneventful in comparison; those combatants had just stood still while firing spells. The onlookers watched avidly, learning how important agility and quick thinking played just as much a role as spell-casting. Severus upped the ante, casting non-verbal spells. With the element of surprise at his side, Lupin found it harder to anticipate and counteract whatever came his way.

Snape pointed his wand at his adversary and spoke the Reductor curse. The sheer force erupting from his wand caused him to teeter briefly. Lupin took advantage of his loss of balance to direct a Trip Jinx at his feet. Severus fell to the ground like a lead weight, the impact knocking the wind out of him. His wand rolled out of his grasp.

Lupin approached, wand leveled. Severus pulled himself up to a kneeling position, struggling to force air into his abused lungs. His cheeks burned; angry humiliation gnawed at his insides. He had lost. Defeated by a juvenile Trip Jinx.

Lupin stopped a foot away and opened his mouth to speak. Snape noticed that the man's wand was still pointed at him but held in a lax grip. He bent his head, trying to suck in another lungful of oxygen. Then he saw it. Right in front of his nose was an old threadbare throw rug. Under Lupin's scuffed shoes.

With lightning-quick reflexes, Severus yanked hard on the edge of the rug, jerking Lupin right off his feet. He fell backward with an air of almost comical surprise, his skull impacting with a sickening thud on the stone floor. He blinked his eyes, dazed. The Slytherin lost no time, snatching up his wand and pouncing on the fallen combatant. He kicked away the wand that the man had dropped and then planted his foot forcefully on Lupin's throat, preventing him from summoning it. Snape pointed his wand between the werewolf's eyes. The man tried to speak but only made a gurgling sound. He placed both hands palms-up on the floor, indicating surrender.

Snape stepped back, allowing Lupin to sit up. He gingerly rubbed his throat with one hand and the impressive knot rising on his head with the other. "You didn't have to be so rough!" Ron exclaimed angrily as he and Harry helped the man to his feet.

"No, he was quite right," Remus said mildly. "In a genuine battle, it pays to make sure that your opponent is truly subdued. Note how I had Mister Snape disarmed and seemingly defeated, and yet he was still able to turn the tables – without magic, I'd like to add. Very ingenious, Severus," he said, nodding his head but wincing at the painful motion. "Always use your surroundings to your advantage." Students were drawing closer, looking from Snape to Lupin, amazed that the Slytherin had managed to beat the ex-Defense professor. "That was an excellent duel. Thank you for indulging me, Severus. You were a truly worthy opponent. Now, can someone tell me the methods that Mister Snape used during combat and how they benefited him?"

"He used non-verbal spells," mentioned a long-haired Hufflepuff.

"Very good, Miss Bones. I'm certain you all noticed that I had more difficulty countering the spells when I could not hear the incantation used. Anyone else?"

"He picked his spells carefully, like the Reverto Impetus and Protego Absorbeo, which are more effective than the usual Protego spell."

"Quite right, Hermione. He made every spell count."

"You were able to gain the upper hand with a Trip Jinx," Harry pointed out. "It's a very simple spell, but it did the trick."

"Very good point. Use any and every trick in the book, for you never know which will be handy."

Snape tried to surreptitiously press a hand to his side. He wondered if his ribs were cracked. Lupin noticed and touched his sore head in empathy. "I fear I may have to make a trip to the Hospital Wing at the conclusion of tonight's gathering. Your retaliation was most effective. You seem hurt as well, so I'd suggest you accompany me."

Severus sneered. "And let that evil woman get me in her clutches? I don't think so. That's what healing potions are for."

"So you're not coming back then?" Harry asked. Severus raised his chin, a barb poised on the tip of his tongue, until he realized that the Gryffie looked… almost disappointed. Why? Because he couldn't see Severus take another thrashing? Surely he didn't want Snape to actually join them?

He shrugged and walked away. This was a stupid idea to begin with. He didn't owe them anything.

Lupin and Potter both looked disappointed when the scrawny Slytherin did not turn up at the start of the next gathering. When half an hour passed, the door creaked open and Severus walked in, accompanied by Millicent Bulstrode. She glared at the assembled students defiantly. "I don't want to be a Death Eater," she declared, crossing her arms in front of her ample chest.

"Welcome, Miss Bulstrode," Lupin beamed. Severus started off working with her exclusively, but once she seemed a bit more comfortable, he branched out. Most of his comments were curt, but he made an effort to temper his sharp tongue, and his suggestions did help the students improve. The last few minutes of the class had Snape and Potter engage in a face-off; it was not as violent as the one that he and Lupin had engaged in, but both seemed winded at the end. Snape had beat Potter by a slim margin, but Harry never made the same mistake twice.

The two moved around each other in the following days with the utmost caution, eyeing each other suspiciously. At the end of their third gathering, Harry said, "Snape, show me how you cast the Reductor curse." Eyeing the Gryffindor warily, Severus brandished his wand and cried "Reducto!"

"There," said Harry, gesturing to the boy's legs, which had stayed together. The force of the spell had again put him slightly off balance. "Try taking a small step forward to brace yourself before casting the curse, and you'll be prepared for the backlash." Snape tried the curse a second time, and Potter's advice proved true. Damn him. He sulked for the rest of the meeting.

Harry looked a bit nonplussed by Snape's displeasure but soon brushed it off. The students had split into pairs and he was determinedly trying to keep them from maiming each other. He was ready to drop by the end of the session and didn't even realize that he and Snape were the only ones left in the room. "Potter," the other boy said abruptly. Harry jumped and whirled around as if expecting an attack. "Are you still experiencing difficulties with Occlumency?"

"Yeah," he confessed, rubbing his scar ruefully. "I don't think Snape really tried to teach me, to be honest. He just yelled at me and poked around inside my head. Think the prat actually enjoyed it." He then realized who he was talking to and shot the Slytherin an apologetic look.

Snape gave him a disgusted look in return. "The best way to teach Occlumency is to force the mind to display its natural defenses. The normal response to an intruder is to push it away. Apparently your mind is more naturally open so the usual methods do not apply." He tapped his wand against his thigh while staring at the far wall. "Perhaps this method will work for you. You like Hogwarts castle, do you not?"

"I feel like it's my home," he confessed.

"Then picture Hogwarts in your mind. You are just inside the front doors. An intruder is outside. Slam the door in his face, and slide home the bolt locks. Then focus on the door seams. Make even those disappear, so that nothing but a solid stone wall remains between you and your adversary. The symbolic wall will become reality. Nothing can pass it without your wish."

Harry blinked at him. "Just picture it? Surely it can't be that easy!" Severus shrugged. "Why didn't Snape tell me this before?"

"Because the space between your ears is hollow. I just explained to you that he did use the standard methods. Plus you can't just pick up a difficult skill like Occlumency overnight. You have to practice it. If these methods are not successful, only then would an alternate approach be considered. It sounds as if you did not reach that stage with Professor Snape."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. His lessons had been cut short after he had been caught snooping in the professor's memories. He hadn't been practicing Occlumency either. He wanted to blame the man for his failure that had ultimately lead to the death of his godfather, but there was really no one to blame but himself. "Thanks," he whispered. "I'll be sure to try it."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Severus had difficulty concealing his eagerness. The term had finally come to an end, and he would be heading home with Professor Snape in the morning. True, they had to spend their time in his ghastly ancestral home, but even that would be bearable with company. The summer would be filled with brewing and reading, and he very much looked forward to spending the time with his intellectual equal. Even the prospect of losing the house cup to Gryffindor, *again*, failed to faze him.

Professor Snape had seemed equally relieved at the end of term. Though spying on the Dark Lord was undeniably stressful, teaching lazy unmotivated brats was also nerve-wracking. Though he would no doubt be busy with Order and Death Eater meetings, he would also have much more time to himself, and for his young companion. The idea of company was much less odious than he had expected.

The pair met again at the end of the day, sitting together and sipping tea companionably. "We'll have to return to Spinner's End for the summer," the professor declared. "I know you hate the house even more than I do, and I too despise staying there, but it has served me well of late. I will try to make our stay there as pleasant as possible. We may be able to squeeze in a few trips, when I am not needed by the Order or the Death Eaters." He passed the young man an envelope. Severus withdrew two tickets. "We're going to the International Potions Symposium?"

The professor nodded, allowing the ghost of a smile to cross his lips. "It's in Strasbourg this year." He had always yearned to attend a symposium when he was younger, but only Masters or those invited by a Master could attend. He had not been able to attend himself until he had gained his Mastership, but he was now in a position to benefit his younger self.

"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!" Severus leapt from his seat, enveloping the older man in an eager hug.

Professor Snape became absolutely still. He did not seem to even breathe. Abruptly aware of what he had just done, Severus wrenched himself away. "Sorry!" he choked, staggering backwards. "I should never have – oh *God*! Sorry!" He whirled around and fled as if the demons of Hell were on his heels. Once the door had slammed behind him, the professor bowed his head and closed his eyes. He didn't mean to react so violently, but he was so unused to physical touch and affection. He had needlessly frightened the boy away. He wasn't sure why he had reacted so negatively now, when he had gratefully accepted caring gestures from the boy earlier, but the damage had been done. Still, he had allowed the boy to get far too close to him. He needed to put their relationship back on a more formal footing, but he had no idea how to do that without alienating the boy further. Now what was he supposed to do?


	20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Professor Snape entered the Headmaster's office with trepidation. "Albus," he said heavily. "I'm afraid I've got a situation with young Severus."

"Do sit down." Dumbledore waved him into a chair.

Snape sat down heavily. "I suppose it is my fault. I granted the boy too many liberties and allowed a familiarity to form. I treated him like a close friend or perhaps a younger brother and not like one of my students."

"We have a more serious issue at hand regarding the young man," Albus said gravely. He held up an envelope. "I have just received a letter from Horace. He thought it best to contact me first, since he knew that the information within would come as a blow. He has discovered that the potion that was used to bring Mister Snape into being destabilizes over time."

Snape angrily snatched the envelope from the headmaster's hand and impatiently whipped out the letter, almost ripping it in the process. His eyes darted as he frantically read. "Oh god," he whispered, burying his head in his hands. "He's only got a year. Maybe even less."

Albus placed a hand on his shoulder. Severus could not conceal his flinch; yet another reaction to touch. "Go to him, Severus. Tell him what Horace has discovered. Then be there for him. You are the most important person in his life; he will need your comfort like never before."

Severus stared at him. Despite the devastating news, he was certain that he could see a faint twinkle in the old man's eye. Damn him. After this latest event, the professor had thought to put as much distance between himself and the boy, but Dumbledore wanted them to become even closer.

A few hours later, he caught himself pacing the floor of his quarters. He had sent a stray First Year Slytherin to fetch young Severus. Part of him wanted to delay indefinitely, but his pragmatic side knew that the boy needed to know.

There was a hesitant knock on his door. Snape arched an eyebrow as he rose to open it. The boy had become to regard these quarters as his own. The knock was a manifestation of the awkwardness between them.

Severus entered, his jaw set with determination. Although their relationship had become strained, he refused to show embarrassment. He would continue on as if nothing had happened. He faltered at the blank expression on the professor's face. The man was very worried about something and was trying to hide it. "Sir?" he asked hesitantly. Did this mean that Professor Snape was cutting him loose? Would he have to fend for himself? The thought frightened him much more than it should have. He ruthlessly squashed it.

The professor held up a crumpled letter, and Severus felt a dizzying rush of relief. This wasn't about the ill-advised hug after all. "Sit down," he murmured. "I have some news from Professor Slughorn." The young man sat and eyed him warily. Professor Snape took a deep, bracing breath. "Our worst fears have borne fruit. The potion that was used to create you is not permanent. Over time, its key ingredients will destabilize. There is a lot about your creation that we don't know, but his research indicates that when the degradation reaches an advanced state, you will not survive."

Severus swallowed hard. "I'm dying?"

Severus nodded solemnly. "Yes." A pause. "I'm sorry." To the casual observer, the remark would have seemed a careless afterthought. Both knew that it was the man's awkward way of trying to humanize his response and soften the blow.

"No."

"What?" The professor was taken aback.

"No," the young man repeated, his jaw set in defiance. "I refuse to accept this. I won't! My life has been turned upside down. Everything was coming along just fine until I appeared here. Since then I've had to adjust to having *myself* as Head of House, attending school with children of my former classmates, blamed for actions and decisions that aren't mine, spying on my fellow House-mates, and now I won't even live to graduate!" He whirled to leave, but a strong hand fell on his shoulder. "Severus," a soft voice whispered, and his anger abruptly vanished, leaving an aching void in its place. To his absolute horror, tears sprung to his eyes. He ducked his head so that his greasy hair concealed his face as he frantically blinked. He would not give in.

He found himself folded in an awkward embrace, his nose mashed against the scratchy fabric of the professor's waistcoat. Severus kept his posture stiff and he held his breath, trying to suppress any sign of weakness. Despite himself, a sob escaped. "It's me," the man whispered softly. He was determined to make up for his poor reaction earlier, and be there for Severus the way the boy had been there for him. "You don't have to hide your feelings with me." His chest soon became damp with the young man's frustrated tears, as he tried to cry as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. Severus was embarrassed to break down in front of his Head of House. Yet seeing as the positions had been reversed awhile back, it made him feel somewhat better, in a somewhat perverse way.

Once his tears had spent themselves, Snape tucked the boy's hair behind one ear and tipped his chin back. The young man hiccupped slightly, his dark eyes shimmering damply. "We'll make it through together. Somehow."


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty-One

Young Snape joined the jostling noisy crowd making its way to Hogsmeade. He said farewell to his Slytherin year mates, who wished him a good summer in return. Some seemed rather envious of the opportunities that he faced, while others seemed to feel sorry that he was stuck spending the whole vacation with a teacher. Malfoy winked at him as Crabbe and Goyle elbowed each other and exchanged large grins. "See you in a few weeks!" Draco whispered, and his cohorts nodded vigorously. Snape gave a small smirk in return, concealing his uneasiness. Yes, they would no doubt see more of each other when Voldemort invited them all to his little get-together. He and the professor would need to have a long talk about what was expected of him and how best to capitalize on their secret double-agent status.

Severus had always looked forward to idle time, to time to himself. He was always secretly pleased on the few occasions when his parents bade him to stay at the school during the winter hols. No Marauders, no insipid Quidditch jocks or morons giggling around him and distracting him. Christmas had always been a depressing time at home, so staying at school was almost like a gift. Hours and hours of unscheduled time to while away in the library and the Potions lab working on experiments, and the even rarer occasion to explore the Herbology greenhouses and the Forbidden Forest for ingredients. Today afforded him such a rare occasion, since the professor needed a few extra hours to pack his belongings and secure his living and working space.

As Severus wandered the empty halls, memories of holidays past filled his mind and chased away the gloom. Yes, he was still dying. Yes, Voldemort was still a very real threat. But didn't dying mean that he had to live for today? According to Slughorn, he would still have plenty of time to put his affairs in order. Until then, he was determined to enjoy himself as much as possible. He gave the castle a fond look. Hogwarts had been an important part of his life, and though most of his memories were bad he had a growing pile of good memories too.

He returned to the echoingly empty Slytherin dormitory. As he finished packing his meager possessions, he remarked at how eerily quiet it was. There was usually someone talking, pages rustling, quills scratching. The silence was like a sound itself. A bit disconcerted, he headed to the library, but the anticipation of the upcoming vacation kept him from concentrating.

Just when Severus felt ready to jump out of his skin, Snape was ready to go. They gathered their small collection of necessities and miniaturized them for portability to Spinner's End. Severus glanced at his companion nervously as Snape threw a handful of Floo powder in the fire. "Spinner's End!" he announced clearly, and green flames soon whisked the whirling figure away. Severus shifted from foot to foot, waiting his turn. He gave Snape's quarters a last farewell glance, wishing they could just stay there instead, but it couldn't be helped.

His heart sank when he arrived in his old home. There were a few changes, but it was still the same depressing locale of his youth. The bookshelves were full of fascinating books, but even that was not enough to lift his spirits. The interior was dusty, dark and oppressive, making it feel as if the very house was trying to suffocate him. He coughed weakly.

Snape quickly cast an air-freshening charm, and he could breathe a bit easier. "I put preservation charms on each room, but they seem to deteriorate rather quickly. I've been meaning to research further, but perhaps it's the lack of inherent magic in the area."

"I'll help clean up," Severus volunteered dutifully. Snape stayed with him for a few minutes, sensing his wish for company. A noxious smell led them to the kitchen, where Snape cursed over some lurking leftovers that had eluded his previous cleaning purge. It took both of them to apply sufficient cleansing and purifying charms.

Once the downstairs was finished, they headed upstairs and went their separate ways. Severus paused outside his room. He put his hand on the knob but could not bring himself to open the door. He wondered if this room had even been touched since his older self had grown up. His room had been his safe haven and refuge, but it had also been his prison. The house had seemed to trap him in the Muggle world, leaving him to listen to his parents' fights night after night. Things had become even worse after his break with Lily, since she was physically so close but was now for all intents and purposes inaccessible.

A wave of vertigo swept over him. He had been in this house not long ago, so it seemed, and the subtle differences and distinct air of neglect were throwing him off balance. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to," Snape said kindly and directed a cleansing charm under the door.

"Why here?" he blurted. "Why can't you stay at the castle year-'round, or buy a small cottage somewhere?"

"Believe me; I would dearly love to leave this heap behind. But it has served me better than I thought possible. Houses are expensive, and it's not worth the money to buy a place just for the summer. Besides, no one would ever think to look for me in such a seedy Muggle environment."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but his stomach gurgled loudly. Snape stifled a smirk. "As you saw, there unfortunately is not much that is edible in the house. I'll run out to get some takeout, and I'll have to go grocery shopping later as well. I'd like to take you with me, but you might attract undue attention, even if you were Polyjuiced. Our neighbors would definitely take notice if I had a companion, so I made certain to reinforce the privacy wards."

"I guess I'll just wait here," he said dejectedly. As Snape stepped outside, he settled himself in front of the telly. It was an old set but still serviceable, once a few layers of dust were cleared away. Severus watched some mindless program, trying to ignore how the shadows were beginning to lengthen, and every creak seemed amplified.

Snape returned quickly, but his absence still seemed to last an eternity. Severus was delighted to see that he'd brought Chinese food, which his family hardly ever indulged in. They both tucked in eagerly.

In short order, Severus tipped his chair back, hands resting on his full stomach. A sudden thought occurred to him. "I'd like to stay in Mum's… the multipurpose room, if that's all right."

"That will be acceptable."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"I'll be staying in the master bedroom."

Severus grimaced. That had been his parents' room, or mostly his father's room, since his mother sometimes spent her nights in the spare multipurpose room. "I don't know how you can stand it. I wouldn't want to be anywhere that's associated with Father."

"I don't blame you, but I've replaced the bed and rearranged the furniture. It's just different enough to no longer be his. Besides, I like to think that taking over his house and his room is a form of revenge."

Severus picked at his dinner, his appetite gone. After they tidied up their dinner, Snape thumbed through some dusty tomes, but Severus could not make himself concentrate on the words. The droning of the television helped to distract his restless mind. The combined stress of his declining health, returning to his hated childhood home, and the exhausting day of cleaning had left him feeling wrung out. Sensing that he was becoming overwhelmed, Snape silently gestured toward the stairs. Thankfully his nerves had worn him out, for Severus fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next few weeks were spent in a blur of cooking, cleaning, and reading. They were both in their element. One day while Snape was out buying a few supplies, Severus mustered up the courage to open the door to his own room. It was a strangely eerie sight. The surroundings weren't that different from when he had lived here – the small bust of Paracelsus still set on a bureau, and the poster of some obscure Wizard rock band was affixed to the wall. Several awards of distinction also dotted the room. However, while things had looked rather recent on his last recalled visit, the papers were now yellowed and curling. The prior cleansing charm had gotten rid of most of the dust and dirt, but a few cobwebs and dusty patches still remained. Severus saw to them in quick order.

He Scourgified the bed for good measure before throwing himself down. To be honest, he had mixed feelings about being in this house, and in this room in particular. He had had so many bad experiences here. To be honest, he had some good ones as well. He had been ashamed of his house and his family, so he had resisted bringing Lily over for as long as possible. When it had seemed impossible to delay any longer, he had brought her over for dinner, and it was every bit as disastrous as he had feared. Still, she had not stayed away, and he had snuck into his room a few times. They had both been innocent children, studying magic spells and potions. Those were good memories. Perhaps concentrating on that would help him to make peace with this house.

To his surprise, he was able to recall a few positive memories in the days going forward, even some that involved his parents. The quiet pace also helped to soothe his frayed nerves. His days with Snape were not all exciting, but that was not a problem. After the stress in their lives, some downtime was quite welcome. However, some of the nights were not quite as idyllic. On one such night, Severus felt his eyes snap open. He had always been a light sleeper, and something had intruded on his rest. There it was again. A sound was coming from nearby.

Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he squinted into the darkness. There was that sound again. He quietly slipped out of bed and headed out into the hall. He heard another soft sound. A muffled cry. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he reached the door to the master bedroom and quietly pushed it open. Severus saw his companion tossing his head and twitching his limbs erratically, a deep frown on his slumbering features. His expression twisted and he groaned. A nightmare, and a bad one, from the looks of it. Severus hesitated, wondering what to do. He wanted to bring an end to it, but he knew that he himself reacted violently when awakened from unpleasant dreams. Best thing to do was to wait it out.

Snape finally awoke with a scream, his eyes flying open. His wild gaze settled upon him and Severus held his breath for several tense seconds. Finally, reality set in and Snape slumped back against the bed. His head turned away and buried itself into a pillow. Severus put a hand on his shoulder, letting him know mutely that he was not alone. Although he barely made a sound, the man's form shook with sobs. Snape would not speak of the dreams that had plagued him, and Severus would not ask. He would be here for the man through the dead of night, the way no one else had been. It would be enough.

The next day was a much more cheerful affair. Neither alluded to last night's interrupted sleep. They both sat in companionable silence in the parlour, reading their favorite thick dusty books from the bookshelves. Severus stretched his arms above his head and breathed a contented sigh. Snape glanced over and allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk upward. At least for now, they had found peace.

Fate spit in their face as Snape abruptly sat up, clutching his forearm. Severus propped himself up on one arm, face lined in concern. "What is it? What's happening?"

Snape grimaced, his expression of lazy contentment replaced by tension. "I've been Summoned," he said in clipped tones. Severus looked horrified. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," he said hastily. "The Dark Lord has likely come up with some new harebrained scheme or someone that he wishes to make an example of. He expects me to be present in either situation. However, I fear that I may be away for the rest of the day. He does like to go on in these situations. But never fear; I should be back before sunrise." He winced as the burn of the Summons became more intense.

"Should I come with you?" the young man asked.

Snape scowled at the very thought. "No, not this time. The Dark Lord is most curious about you, but he would have specifically requested your presence were it required. This time he seems interested only in my attendance."

"Be careful," Severus whispered fretfully.

"I always am," Snape said confidently. He approached Severus' chair, and after a moment's hesitation, the young man jumped up and gripped him in a bone-crushing hug. He didn't know what had motivated him to do it, after the prior bad reaction, but it somehow felt right. After a heartbeat of hesitation, Snape returned the embrace. They parted reluctantly. A moment later, the room echoed with the crack of Apparition.

Severus spent the rest of the day roaming aimlessly around the house. He threw together a ham sandwich for lunch but could only pick at it. At dinner he had to restrain himself from setting two places. He had a restless, itchy feeling. His rational mind told him that everything was fine – hadn't Snape *told* him not to expect him back for dinner? – but his instincts were screaming that something was wrong. For once, he couldn't even take refuge in his beloved books. His gaze kept skittering from the page, to the clock, to the front door. He had wanted to wait up, but when his eyelids began to get heavy and the words swam before his eyes, he decided to head upstairs to bed. He would be no good to anyone if he wore himself out with waiting and worrying. He had always been a light sleeper, so he knew that he would awaken as soon as the professor returned. Sleep remained elusive, but Severus finally drifted off, his pillow over his head in a psychological attempt to block out the world.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

He awoke with a start the next day. Sunlight was streaming through the curtains that he'd forgotten to properly close. He gave a quick glance to the clock, which told him that he had slept much too late. It was nearly noon. He crossly shoved away the armful of covers (he would *not* admit to cuddling the bed sheets) and dashed downstairs. His heart sank when he discovered that the kitchen and living room were exactly as he had left them. He forced himself to stay calm as he toured the rest of the house. Maybe Snape had just chosen to sleep in another room downstairs to avoid awakening him. Maybe he had gone out to do errands. He knew that he was desperately grasping at straws, trying to reason away his growing panic. But his fears were realized, for the house remained stubbornly empty, with no sign that the professor had returned but stepped out again.

'It's nothing,' he rationalized. 'Professor Snape did tell me that he would sometimes spend weeks with the Death Eaters. Something could have easily come up, and he would not be able to get word to me. I'll just have to sit tight and wait for him.' He occupied himself for the rest of the day with a fiendishly tricky potion. Luckily, his powers of concentration seemed to be somewhat better today. He was elated and was eager to share his results with the older man… who was not there. His spirits plummeted.

The next day was even worse. His eyes were ringed with dark circles from an uneasy sleep; he burned the eggs; and his cauldron exploded twice. His nerves were on edge, and any creak or groan from the old house made him unbearably jumpy. By the fourth day, he was completely frantic. He would go outside for walks to distract himself, only to dash back in a panic, convinced that Snape had returned in his absence and may be in desperate need of medical attention. He badly needed to talk to someone, anyone, but that prospect was even more terrifying. He didn't know who he could trust, or worse, how to contact them. The professor must have a way of using owls, surely, but there was no sign of one in the neighborhood.

After choking down a dinner of cold oatmeal (leftovers from breakfast), he flopped down in a broken-down armchair to watch the telly. Neither Snape would ever admit it, but they had an odd sort of horrified fascination with soaps and talk shows. He was engrossed in the latest substandard drama when the Floo flared to life. He shrieked in surprise and leapt to his feet, his wand brandished.

Albus blinked at him mildly through the green flames. "There you are, my boy. Is Professor Snape with you?"

"No," he said warily. "I haven't seen him in days."

The old man's expression fell. "Oh, dear. I was quite afraid of that. I also have not heard from Severus, and we have a very reliable means of communication. He notified me that he had been Summoned, but that was the last that I heard."

The young man shook his head. "I don't have any more information than you do. He's been gone four days."

"How long did he expect to be gone?"

"He told me not to expect him for dinner, but he seemed to expect to be back by the morning. I know he's been gone on longer missions than this, but I'm really worried. I understand that secrecy is paramount, but my existence is public knowledge, and I don't see why it would be a problem for the professor to send me a quick message."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "I do not think that Professor Snape would have left you alone for so long willingly." The other Severus opened his mouth, but Albus waved his hand dismissively. "I know that you are of age and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, but Severus and I both tend to be protective of our charges. This leads me to believe that something has gone terribly wrong."

Severus turned pale. He had hoped that the old man would somehow reassure him, but he was confirming his worst fears. "Try not to fret," Dumbledore said in an attempt to soothe. "Professor Snape has been through many tight scrapes and has survived with his skin intact."

"I want to help. What should I do?"

"Just sit tight for now. Do not make any attempt to reach the professor. I will be in contact soon."

Severus paced back and forth for what seemed an interminable length of time, wearing down the already threadbare carpet. When Dumbledore finally reopened the Floo connection, the young man was dozing in an awkward position on the sofa. "Get up, Severus," he said urgently. "You may be in danger and must leave this house immediately. In order to help you, you must set the Floo to allow me passage. Professor Snape has barred the Floo to all but himself unless specific permission is granted. Few can even Firecall him since he is extremely choosy on who he has set allowances for. Now, point your wand at the fireplace and speak the word 'Admit'."

Severus scowled but did as he was told. He most certainly did not want the old man prowling about his shabby home, but this was an emergency. He dashed upstairs and threw together a few essentials. He glared at Dumbledore as he reentered the sitting room – the elderly man was sitting in the armchair with an innocent air, as if he had not stirred since his arrival, but Severus was certain that the geezer had been poking about while his back was turned.

"Come, there is no time to waste," Albus said urgently. He sprang from his seat with a speed that belied his advanced years. "If Professor Snape is in danger, you may be as well. It is not safe for you to remain here. Unfortunately, safe houses are hard to come by these days. Nevertheless, I was able to arrange some last-minute accommodations." And before Severus could utter another word, Dumbledore gently took his arm and they disappeared with a *crack*. He wasn't sure how Apparition was possible in such a heavily-warded house, but perhaps the wards were set to allow outgoing Apparition only.

They arrived in a large, messy-looking yard. Severus gave his companion another angry glare. "I can Apparate myself, you know!"

"My mistake," Albus said mildly. "I am used to dealing with underage students, and even those that have obtained their Apparition license continue to struggle through their first Apparitions. You are unusually skilled and adept in your magical studies, which I'm afraid has made it difficult for your older self to teach his craft, since he cannot relate to students who are not as gifted as himself. But never mind an old man's ruminations; we are here."

The Slytherin looked around him in amazement. The yard was an absolute mess: chickens wandered to and fro, a rusty cauldron lay abandoned, and a sign announcing "The Burrow" listed to one side (the place was aptly named, in his opinion). He could just catch a peek of an overgrown garden with a mischievous gnome or two popping up their heads. If this was supposed to be a safe house, then the Aurors had certainly come down in the world.

If the grounds were improbable, the house itself was patently impossible. It was an ugly stone affair with levels piled upon one another haphazardly, held together seemingly by magic and force of will. His heart sank. He wasn't going to be left *here*, was he?

Dumbledore tugged his arm until he unwillingly trudged toward the dilapidated house. Instead of entering through the front door, he was lead through the jungle of a garden to the back door of the kitchen. The old man knocked on the door and exchanged a few whispered words, and then the door was unbolted. Once inside, Snape's perception totally changed. The interior had items strewn about, but the kitchen table and floor were freshly scrubbed. Despite the balmy night, the fire burned merrily, and something delicious-smelling bubbled in the cauldron. The room was cramped but welcoming, and he felt instantly at ease. What a difference from Spinner's End! Both houses were showing their age and overuse, but his childhood home was bleak and depressing. Snape felt that this Burrow was surely a happy place.

"There you are, dear!" a large, matronly woman exclaimed, bustling forward while wiping her hands on a broad apron. "Did you get here all right? I hope you didn't have any trouble fetching him, Albus."

"No trouble at all, Molly, though I felt it was prudent to act quickly. The poor lad has been alone for four days!"

"Four days! How ghastly! Tell me, young man, have you eaten?"

Severus opened his mouth to protest that he had eaten recently, but his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl. "Come sit," the matron said firmly, directing him into a nearby chair. In no time, he had a steaming bowl of stew before him. With more haste than was dignified, he dug in with gusto, his stomach suddenly realizing that it had been cheated out of a proper meal as of late. The woman looked delighted. "You just eat up while I make the introductions. I always thought that Professor Snape could use a few home-cooked meals. Albus has filled us in on the details, and we're glad to have you stay with us. I'm Molly Weasley, and this is my husband, Arthur." She gestured to a balding man reading a paper before the fire. He smiled encouragingly and stood, offering his hand. "Don't get up," he admonished as Severus began to rise. "Molly's never happier than when feeding someone." The young man shook hands gingerly.

Molly continued, "I believe you've been put into the same year as our son, Ron." Severus schooled his features into a blank expression. It wouldn't do to show his true feelings toward that particular Gryffindor. "I'm afraid we're going to have a very tight squeeze, for my oldest son Bill is getting married. Most of our family is already here, and the family of the bride-to-be is expected in a few days." Oh joy. He was going to be surrounded by a sea of redheaded Gryffie horrors. Suddenly the Death Eaters didn't look so bad. Well, at least the house seemed cheerful. He was a master at antisocial behavior; surely he could find a quiet corner to haunt.

He studied his surroundings in more detail as he ate. "Our house may strike you as a bit odd," Molly said stiffly. "We've had to expand here and there throughout the years."

"It's lovely," he said softly, despite himself. Despite the Weasleys' tight finances, they still seemed better off than his own family. Plus he could practically feel the love and care that went into his surroundings – the food, the room, the scattered belongings. There was a feeling of *home* that he had not felt anywhere before. It made him inexplicably sad. He ducked his head before Mrs. Weasley could see.

Once he had polished off his dinner, he suddenly felt exhausted. He tried to unobtrusively hide a yawn. "You're worn out!" the redheaded lady fussed, fluttering around him. He usually found such mother-hen behavior highly annoying. Maybe he had just been fending for himself too long, since it felt good to have someone care. She chatted with him a bit as she helped him gather up his meager belongings. He could tell that she was curious about him and was comparing him to his older self, but he was too tired to really care. She seemed to be making an effort to treat him like one of her son's friends, instead of some sort of freak or miniature professor. He had felt strange being around his peers, since they had most definitely been sizing him up. Mrs. Weasley's motherly attitude was a welcome respite. Besides, he had always felt more comfortable around adults than children his age.

She lead him up several sets of narrow and winding staircases until they reached a darkened bedroom. "You'll be sharing a room with Ron." She pushed open the door and shone her light at Ron's bed. "Ron! Are you awake? We've got a visitor." He just muttered and rolled over. "You can have this bed. I'm afraid we'll all be bumping elbows for the next few days, so I hope it isn't a terrible inconvenience."

Severus squared his shoulders. "If anything, I'm the one inconveniencing you. I'm grateful for your willingness to take me in on such short notice."

She smiled at him and seemed to want to do something motherly, like ruffle his hair or kiss his cheek. "Try to make yourself as comfortable as possible. Mister Weasley and I will be sleeping in the master bedroom on the fourth floor. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask Ron or one of us. Have a good night, dear." She gave him a final encouraging smile before she shut the door.

Severus stared at the door a few moments before sitting down on the bed. It was probably odd for the woman to have a fellow Order member and her children's professor staying under her roof as a teenager, but she had been more than decent about it. He threw a dark look at the lightly snoring lump in the next bed. He was used to dorm life so he wasn't too perturbed at having a roommate, but Weasley was not exactly his top choice. Frankly, the whole situation had him puzzled and a little scared. Professor Snape had disappeared without a word, and Dumbledore seemed to think that both the man and his younger self were in danger. There was no other reason that the Death Eaters would be a threat to him – hadn't the Dark Lord wanted to meet him? – unless the professor had been outed as a double agent… for the other side. That thought made his blood run cold.

He shook his head roughly, trying to dismiss the fears that threatened to crowd his mind. Even Dumbledore himself had said that he didn't know for sure what had happened to Professor Snape. Perhaps he was still undercover and had no opportunity to send a covert message. Perhaps the old man was just being paranoid. But a small part of him knew that he was grasping at straws. From the professor's description, Dumbledore had a way of knowing the unknowable, and if he suspected that young Snape was in danger, then it was likely so.

He changed his clothes in the dark and crawled under the covers. He had expected to have trouble sleeping in a strange bed with so many anxieties hovering over him, but the stress of the past few days had worn him out, and he soon fell fast asleep.

He awoke in the middle of the night to find the gleam of a lit wand tip thrust in his face. "What the devil are you doing here?" a voice snarled.

Snape squinted, trying to peer through the sudden glare. He could barely make out a thatch of red hair. "Your mum put me here!" he spat in response. "You've got a fine way of greeting your guests." Meanwhile, his hand inched under his pillow toward his wand. A lifetime of unpleasant circumstances had lead to that nighttime habit, and he was particularly grateful for it now.

Ron growled in anger. The late hour had only added to his surliness. He seemed doubtful of Snape's story but could come up with no other explanation as to why a Slytherin would suddenly be sharing his room. "What are you doing here? Don't tell me you're invited to the wedding?"

The Slytherin sneered. "And what if I am? Frankly, the reason for my presence is none of your concern. I'm here, and you'll just have to live with it." His hand curled around his wand.

"It's my concern if you're in my bloody room!" he yelled. "Well, you may have conned your way into my house, but you're sure as hell not staying in here tonight!" He grabbed Snape's bag and threw it at him. "Sleep somewhere else!"

"Fine." Icicles practically dripped from Snape's chilly response. "I'd rather not share breathing space with such a moronic Gryffindor anyway. Your stupidity might be catching." Ron looked infuriated but he at least lowered his wand, allowing Severus to gather a few items, including the bed sheets, and leave the room. He had barely crossed the threshold when the door slammed. He could hear a locking charm being cast on the other side.

He sighed in quiet frustration. Now what was he supposed to do? He was in a (very!) strange house with people he didn't know, and the one who he did hated him. He had less than a year to live, and he was wasting his time *here*?

A loud *bang* sounded from a lower floor, and he jumped nearly a mile. The twin devils must be here too… they were legends at Hogwarts, and though he had never met them personally, he knew to be on his guard. Professor Snape had spoken of them very bitingly – they had shown a surprising aptitude for Potions but had spent more time exploding things than doing actual work. He would not be at all surprised if any of the Weasley children would try to avenge perceived wrongs inflicted by Professor Snape.

His original impression of this house had been totally reversed. What had seemed quirky and offbeat yet welcoming was now by night confounding and threatening. He was in a house full of Gryffindors. There was no room for a snake in the lion's den.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

In the morning, the house was thrown into an uproar. Severus was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Weasley set upon bending her youngest son's ear after he confessed his role in the proceedings. An intense argument formed between Mr. Weasley and Mad-Eye Moody, who had firecalled on an Order matter. Moody was certain that the boy had snuck off to his Death Eater friends, but Arthur argued that the Aurors had done an excellent job of securing the house. Wards were set to alert if someone other than the Weasley household or other pre-approved guests tried to Apparate to or from their property. Severus had only been able to arrive the night before because he had been escorted by Dumbledore. Those wards remained undisturbed.

Ginny, who had gone to the attic in a last-ditch effort to find a missing embroidered handkerchief, finally discovered his whereabouts. She quickly summoned her parents. "Oh, that poor lad!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed in distress. "Ron is in a world of trouble!"

Severus lay in the far corner of the tiny attic, curled into a ball with the sheet thrown over his thin body, his rucksack doubling as a pillow. The ghoul sat with its arms hugging its drawn-up knees, gazing at the intruder with befuddlement.

The matronly woman tried to approach, but she was swiftly repelled by a strong shield. A protective barrier made a large circle around the sleeping form. The young man started violently, then grabbed his wand and thrust it forward aggressively. He blinked and lowered his wand when he recognized his visitors. He still maintained a tight grip and looked ready to attack at any moment.

"It's all right, dear," Mrs. Weasley soothed. "Nobody will hurt you here. I'm so sorry for what happened last night. Ron will spend the day mucking out the chicken coops for his rudeness. My eldest son Bill – the one to be married – has agreed to share his room with you, and Charlie will stay with Ron."

Severus looked miserable. "I know you will be offended by what I have to say, and I do not mean it to be a slight against you or your husband. You both have been quite kind to me. But to be honest, I'd feel safer amongst the Death Eaters."

Molly bit her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. Arthur stepped forward. "I'll go have a word with Dumbledore. He believes that you are already in danger from the Death Eaters, but I'd hate for you to feel safer with them than in this house." Snape nodded tersely. He'd had enough tormenting from Gryffindors to last several lifetimes. He was not about to waste his summer with more of the same if he could help it. If only Professor Snape would appear, alive and well, to rescue him!

"Come down in a few minutes, Severus. I'll have breakfast waiting for you." She dabbed at her eyes as she turned away, and he felt an unaccustomed stab of guilt. What an arse he was – didn't he have enough enemies already, without alienating the few friendly people as well? Why did interpersonal relationships have to be so damned hard? Why did he have to feel so all alone, when Death was practically breathing down his neck? His heart ached to be with the professor. *He* would understand.

Seeing that the bathroom was empty, he seized his chance for a quick wash. He was definitely not in the mood to wrestle any Gryffies for a turn in the lav. As he descended toward the kitchen, he heard loud, angry voices.

"… the boy is in danger." He paused on the stairs. That was Dumbledore's voice. Were they talking about him? He hadn't known that anyone else would actually be coming over.

"He has no business being here! Let him go to his Death Eater friends, where he belongs."

"Alastor, Severus has not yet taken the mark, and our Severus was certain that he could dissuade him from joining Voldemort's ranks. I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt." There was dismayed muttering over the use of You-Know-Who's name.

"Speaking of old Snape: isn't it convenient that he just up and disappeared right before Harry's Coming of Age? He's probably at You-Know-Who's side right now, preparing for an attack!"

"I agree that we must be on our guard against attack, but I will not discount the fact that both Snapes may be in grave danger. Unless another safe house can be found, he must remain here."

"There has been enough death," Mr. Weasley said quietly. "If young Severus has truly renounced the Death Eaters, then he deserves our protection."

"Molly, I know you've got a soft spot in your heart for children, but how can you stand to have the Snape boy in your house? You know the monster he will become!" This again from the Alastor person. "Tell you what. *I'll* take the boy. He'll get into no mischief while I'm around!"

"You will do no such thing!" There was a note of steel in Mrs. Weasley's voice. "He is a young man in need of kindness and care. The poor thing looks like a strong wind could carry him away. He may not be the prettiest or kindest creature, but that is all the more reason to treat him with decency. I will hear no more on the matter."

Severus stepped into the room. "If you're going to discuss my care, you might as well include me in the conversation. I am of age and fully capable of making my own decisions."

"Ah, there you are, my boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "We were indeed discussing your safety. Unfortunately, remaining at the Burrow seems to be the only option for the moment."

Snape sneered. "More like no one else would have me. Except him," he glared at the man with the strange electric-blue eye that seemed to look right through him, "and I'd rather face whatever danger is out there than spend one single night with him."

"I'm sorry for the circumstances, dear, but we'll try to make you as comfortable as possible," Molly reassured him. Alastor looked like he had more to say, but Dumbledore took his arm and guided him toward the door. A few minutes later, they heard a double *crack* of Apparition.

Mrs. Weasley had set a generous breakfast out for him. His appetite had completely disappeared after the difficult night he had spent, but the sight of food had revived it with a vengeance. He surprised himself by finishing his meal and asking for seconds, which delighted the woman to no end.

He noticed that she had already started preparing lunch. There were so many mouths to feed; she would no doubt need to start dinner before lunch was even finished. He wanted to skulk away and hide in a dark corner, but everyone else was busy with chores and wedding preparations. He may be many things, but lazy was not one of them. "Do you need any help, ma'am?" he asked in his politest voice.

Her face lit up. "Bless your heart! A young man actually volunteering! Yes, dear, I could certainly use a hand. Growing boys are always threatening to eat us out of house and home. Would you give me a hand with peeling and chopping these carrots? Have a care for the blade; it's very sharp."

Severus took the knife and cutting board and deftly peeled the carrot with the edge of the blade, then swiftly chopped the carrots into perfect coin-sized chunks. Molly gasped at the speed of the knife, certain that one of the boy's fingers would join the carrots on the chopping board, but though the knife edge was practically a blur, his hand never faltered. In a few scant minutes, the large pile of carrots had been reduced to pieces.

"That's amazing!" she breathed. "I've never seen such skill. Could you also peel these potatoes for me? We'll have lunch done in no time!"

Severus made swift work with everything that was thrown his way. At one point, he paused in his chopping and slicing to peer thoughtfully at the bubbling concoction. "May I?" he asked, holding a spoon. She nodded her approval, and he took a small sip. "It's quite good," he declared, and she beamed. "But perhaps it can be even better. Perhaps some paprika?"

Molly looked thrilled. Cooking had lost its adventurous appeal quite awhile ago, but the young man was tapping into her long-dormant creativity. She was enjoying Severus' experimental side. "Splendid idea! Let's give it a try." They spent the next hour discussing the upcoming meals and how to spice them up.

At lunchtime, there was practically a stampede to the table. Severus sat at the far corner, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. He was most definitely not in a social mood. To his chagrin, however, the twins sat right across from him, identical impish expressions on their face. "Hullo, Snape!" they exclaimed in unison. Severus scowled without looking up from his plate. The sooner he finished his meal, the sooner he could be away from such aggravations. He was used to skipping meals and was tempted to do so right now, but he did not wish to hurt Mrs. Weasley's feelings further. Besides, the meal really was quite delicious, and he saw no reason to be chased away from enjoying his own creation.

The meal received approbation from everyone at the table, and Molly proudly informed them of her collaboration with Snape. Praise for the Slytherin was much more muted, but no one could deny that the food was quite delicious.

Once the meal was over, one of the twins passed him a toffee. Snape regarded it with suspicion. "Go on, mate, it's perfectly fine!" the other assured him. He popped a toffee into his own mouth to demonstrate. A small pile of toffees were in a small bag on the table next to him.

With a slight smirk, Snape ate the proffered treat. Both redheads swiveled to watch him intently. He gazed back with a bored expression. The duo then looked at each other with a distinct air of disappointment. "Must've been a dud," one muttered. "We should do some testing," confirmed the other, who slipped his toffee into his mouth. His tongue immediately blew up to immense proportions and lolled out of his mouth.

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley raged. "How many times must I tell you not to bring those abominations to my table?"

"Ah tawt zhat wuz uh gud un!" the long-tongued twin complained. Then, to their shock, his tongue formed a large split at the end and became forked.

"Wicked!" the other exclaimed. "They've never done that before!" He looked eagerly at Snape. "You've altered them, haven't you? Tell us what you've done! We'll give you a cut of the profits!" The forked-tongue twin nodded his head eagerly, all discomfort forgotten for the sake of experimentation.

Severus had the best revenge of all. He smirked mockingly and walked away, leaving the twin hellions calling after him piteously.

He had not paid much attention to the others during lunch, but as he helped Mrs. Weasley tidy up the table, he spotted a young man whose face was covered with scars. "What happened to you?" he blurted; then flushed. Lucius had been trying to teach him better manners, and lesson number one was to prevent whatever impertinent remark was rattling around in his head from flying out of his mouth.

"This is Bill," Mrs. Weasley explained by way of introduction. "He is the one who is marrying Fleur, the blonde-haired young lady." Despite the happy occasion, Snape's ill-advised comment had cast a pall over her mood.

"I was attacked by Greyback, a werewolf." Bill shrugged. "It looks bad, but I'm actually lucky. It wasn't the full moon, so I don't have lycanthropy." He gave Snape a cool eye, leading Severus to think that Bill's opinion of the professor was likely not positive.

Severus looked green as he further eyed the damage to the face that had no doubt been quite handsome at one point. "I was attacked by a werewolf once," he said hesitatingly. He had been sworn to secrecy by Dumbledore, but it wasn't as if he was revealing *who* was behind the attack.

Bill looked surprised. "Was that Lupin?"

Snape wanted to throw his hands in the air. Apparently Lupin's condition was an open secret, since every bloody person he talked to seemed to know it! He spoke very briefly about the attack, since even talking about it brought unwelcome flashbacks of memory. At one point he pulled up his shirt to reveal long scars from the claws that had raked him a few years back. Mrs. Weasley gave a moan of sympathetic pain, which caused a twinge of annoyance. He hated that sort of thing. He knew it would be ten times worse if his impending death was to become public knowledge, so it was just another reason to keep his precarious existence quiet.

"Is that a dragon's tooth?" Severus breathed, noticing Bill's earring.

"Yep," he grinned, turning to better display it.

"And dragonhide boots? Those must have cost a fortune!"

"Nah, my brother Charlie works with dragons. He was able to set me up nicely."

"Just think of all the potions I could make with ingredients like that!" Bill couldn't help but laugh as Severus slipped into a potions-inspired reverie. Severus was still a bit wary of Bill – he *was* a Gryffie, after all – but when Bill offered to tell him of his adventures as a cursebreaker, he decided to stay in Bill's room instead of sleeping on the hard attic floor after all.

Molly took up her wand and commented on the length of Bill's hair. He grinned but cheerfully refused to have it cut for his nuptials. Rather, he would wear it in a tail. She then turned to Severus with a thoughtful gleam in her eye. He clapped his hands over his lank, greasy locks and darted from the room as if the hounds of hell were after him. Bill's laughter followed him up the stairs.

When the endless list of chores seemed to have a break, Severus contented himself with occupying the darkest corner he could find and reading one of his beloved books. While the Weasley parents praised him, the others turned up their collective nose. Who would voluntarily read during vacation? Ugh! It was something that Percy would do, not that anyone dared mention it.

The young adults decided to have an impromptu Quidditch match. They looked at Severus with a look he recognized – they didn't particularly want him to join but also didn't want to obviously exclude him. He waved his hand toward them dismissively and firmly stuck his nose in his book, and thus everyone was happy.

Severus did his best to be as surly as possible to the twins through the past few days, but they proved to be quite intractable. "We're not afraid of you!" they laughed. "We survived six years of detention with Professor Snape!" In retaliation, he began to play pranks on them, but this only seemed to further delight them. One day he had hexed their sheets to wrap around them like snakes until they were mummified. They found the idea splendid and were already plotting to sell Slithering Sheets in their joke shop.

During another quiet moment, he had snuck off once again to 'his' corner to read. He jumped and almost dropped his book as a flash of long red hair streaked by. For a moment, he was almost certain that he had seen Lily. A closer look quashed that silly thought. It was just Ginny, whose red hair had a slightly more carroty tinge than Lily's fiery locks. He felt a dull pain in his chest. He missed her so much. And yet, the pain had dimmed slightly. His concerns were now for Professor Snape. He had come to care for the older man. Now that he had found a true mentor and confidant, the pain over losing Lily was no longer quite as sharp. He most certainly did not want to die, even if it meant meeting this era's Lily in the afterlife, since it would mean leaving the professor behind.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

After nearly a week at the Burrow, he had almost found a comfortable niche. He preferred to keep busy by either helping around the house or reading feverishly. In quiet moments he found himself anxiously worrying about the professor and why he'd received no word on his whereabouts.

One night his comfortable routine was broken. Mr. Weasley, Bill and the twins went off on some sort of mysterious business, and Mrs. Weasley stayed up late, talking in anxious whispers to Ginny and glancing at the door. Severus was quite curious but figured that the goings-on likely did not concern him. Once he saw he was no longer needed, he went up to bed. He had intended to read another chapter but ended up falling asleep in an empty room.

He was startled awake an indeterminable time later by a loud banging. He sat bolt upright in bed and peeked outside the window, but he could see nothing. He tossed on his slippers and crept downstairs just in time to see Harry dash through the door, followed by Hagrid and Bill. "Good gracious, what's happened?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, enveloping Harry into a crushing hug.

"Death Eaters!" Bill exclaimed. "They ambushed us while we were trying to fly Harry to Headquarters. The others are still fighting them – they gave us a chance to hide and use a Portkey. The Death Eaters may be staking out possible safe houses, so it's won't be safe to move him for the time being."

"You!" Harry yelled, brandishing his wand and pointing it at the stairs. Severus had been spotted. He stepped into the room casually, as if having a wand pointed at his heart was no big deal.

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by more banging at the door. Furious whispering ensued, and though Snape couldn't make out exactly what was said, it seemed that the Weasley matriarch was trying to verify the identity of the person on the other side. It was a wise precaution, and he was surprised that the Order had actually thought of it. Gryffindors were long on bravery but sometimes short on common sense. It was all too easy to use a Polyjuiced doppelganger, and they had apparently learned this lesson the hard way, since Draco had told him of the fake professor that had even fooled Dumbledore.

Once Molly was satisfied, she flung open the door and Lupin and Granger rushed inside. "Harry! Thank heavens you're all right!" Hermione exclaimed, enveloping him in a bear hug. It was almost sickening to see the amount of concern and affection that was being lavished on the boy. Her eyes widened when she spotted the Slytherin skulking by the stairs. "Severus!" she cried.

"Yeah," Harry grumbled, "I can't believe he's here either."

"Don't be silly!" she exclaimed. "If he's here, then he must be in real danger. I heard about Professor Snape's disappearance. I'm so sorry, Severus."

Snape's jaw moved soundlessly for a moment; then he gave a curt nod. It had suddenly struck him that, aside from Dumbledore, nobody else had displayed any genuine concern for the professor's well-being. They wanted him found, not because he was in danger, but because the Order did not want to face betrayal. Hermione was no one's fool and would not be concerned for Snape merely because she was a sop. The fact that she really did seem to care had rendered him mute.

Mrs. Weasley bustled around, making sure that everyone was safe. Just as someone would start an in-depth conversation about the unusual events of that night, someone else arrived and they had to start the identity-verification process over again. The last to arrive was Mr. Weasley, carrying George, whose face was covered in blood. Molly cried out in alarm and hastened to her son's side. Together the two parents carried George to the sofa and tried to stop the bleeding. Hermione was skilled in healing charms, but this wound was particularly difficult to close. No one noticed as Snape slipped upstairs. He returned quickly with a strong healing potion, which he neatly dabbed on the gaping wound. George's ear had nearly been severed, but the potion began to knit together the damaged tissue. He would have an awful scar, but the organ was still intact.

"Where's Mad-Eye?" Lupin finally realized.

Arthur looked grim. "He's dead." Tonks covered her face and began to cry. Lupin took a step toward her but looked uncertain.

Kingsley nodded. "He fell after you left with Hermione. At least he went the way he would've wanted. We didn't have time to rescue his body, but I transfigured it into a rock so that the Death Eaters could not violate him."

"I'll go back with you," Arthur volunteered. "Mad-Eye deserves a proper burial." Molly unsuccessfully stifled a frightened gasp.

"No, I'll go," Lupin said firmly.

"Don't think for a second of leaving me behind!" Tonks said angrily, her pink hair suddenly flaming red. Lupin looked rather sour but did not protest further.

The trio exited the house. It was a few moments before the sound of Apparition outside the protective wards could be heard. No doubt they were being very cautious about the possibility of Death Eaters in the area.

"It had to have been Snape!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "Mad-Eye was right; he sold us out. How else could the Death Eaters have known about the plans to move Harry?"

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed scoldingly, shooting Severus a pointed look. Snape sneered at them and stalked angrily up the stairs back to bed. Frankly, he was getting sick of discussing things that he or his older self may or may not have done. "It couldn't have been Snape. I overheard Moody talking to Shacklebolt. Apparently Professor Snape knew about the plans to relocate Harry to a safe location, but not precisely when it would happen. Dumbledore had planned to wait until just a few days before Harry came of age to move him, but with the professor's disappearance, he decided to proceed ahead of schedule."

"Did you see him during the battle? Was he the one who hurt George?" Ron asked rebelliously.

Hermione sighed. "It was hard to see much of anything. The Order purposely picked a dark night. I saw their outlines but not much more. But I seriously doubt that Snape was there. Even with a mask and hood, I'd recognize his voice and his movements anywhere."

"It wasn't Snape who hurt me!" George exclaimed. "The guy was much shorter. I'm certain ol' Snapey knows worse curses and has better aim. Besides, Severus really did me a good turn with healing my ear. Perhaps I'll give him a toilet seat in gratitude."

A pall settled over the Burrow in the wake of Mad-Eye's death. His funeral had to be very small and quiet, because the minister did not want to admit to the true cause of the grizzled Auror's demise. It was attended mostly by Aurors and Order members with wands at the ready in case Death Eaters chose to crash the party. Harry, Ron and Hermione were rather peeved at being left behind but they understood that it was simply too risky to attend.

In light of George's injury, Severus had reneged on his previous vow to never assist the Weasleys with their inventions. That, and he was bored stiff and was in a rather creative mood. One day he surprised the twins in their room with a handful of innocuous chocolates. With two sets of eyes raptly focused on him, he popped the sweet into his mouth and chewed rapidly. Within moments, his teeth sprouted into long, sharp, vicious-looking fangs.

"Whoa!" Fred exclaimed.

"Blimey!" George echoed. "Vampire Vittles!"

Severus smiled, making his appearance even more sinister. He heard footsteps on the stairs and jumped out, hissing and bearing his fangs just as Ron arrived on the landing. The Weasley boy shrieked and jumped in the air, his legs nearly giving out under him.

The twins looked at each other.

"Did you see that, Fred?"

"I did, George."

"Snape just frightened our little brother Ronnie."

"He did, that."

"I think I love this guy."

"Hard to believe it's the same person as Old Snape. I wonder how the man got a broomstick shoved so far up his arse."

Sure enough, no good deed goes unpunished. Inspired by Severus' invention, the twins took to popping out at him from odd corners with silly grins while displaying their latest crazy ideas. Fortunately, Harry was a far more willing victim and served to distract the demonic duo.

Finally, one day Severus decided he couldn't stand being cooped up one moment longer. He headed out the back door and just kept walking. Just as the house was disappearing from view, he was suddenly immobilized while a loud klaxon brayed. In no time, he was besieged by redheads with angrily brandished wands. Molly, Arthur and Bill lowered theirs when they realized who the intruder was, but the others were not nearly as trusting. "Where do you think you're going?" Ron snarled.

Severus hissed in angry frustration. "I've been stuck inside the house for weeks! My potion stores are dry, I've read all my books, the twins are driving me batty, nobody trusts me, and I want a bloody fag!"

Arthur blinked. "Oh no, son. Those things will kill you."

Severus bit his lip to keep from screaming "I'm already dying!" The only thing worse than his current situation would be their cloying pity. He'd much rather die with dignity. Why oh WHY did he have to waste his precious days here? He felt that time was slipping away.

"Perhaps you need something new to occupy your mind. Would you like to come with me? I've got a few fascinating things in the shed that maybe you can help me with."

Severus shrugged. "Anything is better than just standing here."

"Sorry," Mr. Weasley said, freeing him with a flick of his wand.

The crowd dispersed, but not without a few suspicious glares flung his way. Mr. Weasley flung open the door of the garage. There were a few oil stains and tire tracks which indicated that a Muggle car had been stored there at one point. The amount of junk was unbelievable – loose wires, plugs, dead batteries, and other useless refuse was littered about. "Isn't it fantastic?" Arthur beamed. Severus schooled his features into a blank expression.

The redhead held up a watch. "This is obviously a Muggle timepiece but I've never gotten it to work. Pity." He looked genuinely grieved.

Snape tried hard to not roll his eyes as he held out his hand. He saw the problem immediately. The watch had a small knob to the side – without periodic winding, the watch would grind to a halt. Perhaps the man was more familiar with digital or battery-powered watches. Arthur watched in gaping amazement as he carefully turned the winding mechanism. Mr. Weasley held the ticking watch to his ear with glee. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "Do you know a lot about Muggle artifacts?"

"A bit," Severus said cautiously. He was certainly not about to tell anyone of his mixed heritage, although he suspected that this man in particular would be overcome with raptures of delight. He'd never seen a wizard that was so fascinated by Muggles. Frankly, Snape didn't see the attraction.

"I never thought of asking Professor Snape to look at my collection," Arthur mused aloud. "He's not exactly an approachable fellow. But there is no denying his brilliance, or yours, I suppose."

Severus fingered a plug absently. The mention of the professor caused him to feel helpless and frustrated anew. It had been nearly two weeks since the man's disappearance, and no one seemed to have the slightest clue of his whereabouts or condition. Snape was also one of the very few people who knew of his impending death. He was still very nervous and wanted someone to talk to, but it would never do to mention his condition to a Gryffie. He seized upon the nearest piece of junk and began fiddling with it to distract himself.

The two men stayed in the garage until Molly summoned them for dinner. Severus felt a bit stiff after bending over various artifacts for so long. Mr. Weasley followed the Slytherin into the house with a big grin. "Severus is a miracle worker!" he announced proudly. He held aloft a small toy monkey with cymbals attached to its hands. Arthur had confiscated it during a raid and had succeeded of cleansing it of all dark magic. "I've been trying for ages to get this thing to work. Silly me, I had the batteries backward all this time! Just look!" He flipped a switch and the monkey began banging its cymbals to an organ grinder tune. The assembled company gave dirty looks at Snape, who cringed. The thing really was awful. He was starting to regret fixing it (it still had a rather sinister air to it) but Mr. Weasley looked so happy he couldn't regret it completely.


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Severus groaned and threw the covers over his head when Molly hollered for everyone to get up the next morning. He couldn't wait until the festivities were over. Harry's birthday and the wedding were both just a few days away, and the Delacour family was expected tomorrow. Mrs. Weasley was taking advantage of the full house to whip everyone into frenzied action.

After a very busy day and deliciously filling dinner, Severus decided to read a book in the garden by wandlight. He ignored Harry, Ron and Hermione, who were gossiping near the shed about something-or-other. He paused for a moment to look up at the stars. It was a beautiful night, and the air was scented with honeysuckle. For a moment, he forgot about his cares. He wished he could seize this moment and make it last forever.

Fickle fate, as usual, had chosen to kick him in the teeth. A sudden series of cracks and pops echoed, and before Severus could move, several hooded figures Apparated into the yard. Hermione screamed and tried to draw her wand, but the closest Death Eater grabbed her and pinned her arms to her side. "The wards!" she shrieked. "They must have dismantled the wards!"

"But how?" Ron yelled, battling another Death Eater who was trying to incapacitate him. "The Order and the Ministry Aurors set them up, and they're the best!"

"Maybe there's problems at the Ministry!" Harry suggested, stunning one of the masked men. "Anyway, it wasn't hard for the Death Eaters to guess where I was being kept, once they realized I didn't make it to headquarters."

Snape found himself surrounded by several Death Eaters, all of whom had leveled wands at his heart. Dumbledore was right; they were less than receptive toward him. He noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been subdued. Shouts from within the house indicated that help would arrive at any second, but it would likely be too late. He slipped his hand surreptitiously into his pocket, gripping his wand. "What took you so long?" he asked casually. "I thought you'd never come!"

The Death Eaters looked at each other. "What should we do with this one?"

Another shrugged. "Take him with us. Let the Dark Lord decide his fate."

Snape moved to dodge around them, but one was too fast for him and grabbed him in a bruising grip. Severus heard an angry cry and realized that Harry had wounded one of the Death Eaters, but he didn't get to see how the struggle turned out, for the world disappeared as the man holding him pulled him along in side-along Apparition.

They reappeared on the lawn of a massive estate. It was a place he recognized. Malfoy Manor. What in the world were they doing there? Had Lucius busted out of Azkaban to host a Death Eater reunion? Several albino peacocks fled from the commotion.

Loud cracks all around him echoed as the other Death Eaters returned form their tasks. He noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione had all been captured. Harry had a black eye, Hermione had a large bloody scrape on her leg, and Ron was semiconscious.

"My Lord, we return victorious!" announced the man holding Harry.

"Excellent!" a high-pitched voice exclaimed. A figure stepped from the shadows, and Severus fought to not recoil. The man was very different from the pictures of Lord Voldemort that he had seen. This *thing* was barely human, with pallid skin, a bald head, and slits for a nose. His fingers were long and spiderlike. At his feet lay a massive snake. "Welcome, Harry! You're just in time."

Harry's face twisted into a grimace of defiance. "Glad to hear it. I wouldn't want to miss your defeat."

"Impudence!" Voldemort shrieked. His sudden rage subsided. "Never mind. Soon you will be nothing but a touching memory in the hearts of those that loved you. Now that you have left your childhood home, your mother's love can no longer protect you. *You* *are* *mine*."

"Leave him alone!" Ron screamed, and the Death Eaters laughed.

A low gurgling sound caught their attention. "Ah, Severus, we have guests. It was kind of them to drop by for a visit, was it not?" For a moment the young man thought that Voldemort was talking to him. All heads swiveled to look in the direction that the Dark Lord was gazing. A quick flick of his hand illuminated some magical torches around the yard. Flickering firelight played across a crouched nude figure. The man's back was striped with crusted blood and oozing pus. One leg was clearly broken. Hands and feet were secured with painfully tight manacles. He seemed semiconscious, but at Voldemort's mocking words, he stirred and his head lifted.

Severus felt the bile rise in his throat and swallowed hard. Professor Snape had been beaten and abused to within an inch of his life. Judging from the number of festering wounds, he wouldn't be surprised if the man had blood poisoning at this point. Hermione screamed, while Ron gagged. His kidnapper looked disgusted and pointed the boy's head away from him. Voldemort spoke the Cruciatus curse and pointed his wand at the prone figure, which became rigid, and then began to shake violently but soundlessly. A few Death Eaters jeered, looking ecstatic at the downfall of the Dark Lord's former favorite. Some seemed disappointed that the tortured man wasn't vocalizing his agony.

Young Snape was nonetheless surprised to note that a few gatherers seemed less than pleased about the torture. Draco was staring at the professor with horror in his eyes. Lucius stood behind him, hands gripping his son's shoulders, his mouth set in a firm line. Severus would not be very surprised to know that there was a mass breakout from Azkaban, liberating those loyal to the Death Eaters. Several of Severus' fellow classmates were gathered with their fathers – Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle in particular – and all were staring determinedly at the ground. He wasn't sure if it was out of respect for the naked and battered man, or out of simple revulsion, but all looked too horrified for words.

"My Lord, what should we do with this one?" asked the large blond Death Eater holding him.

The eerily pale face snarled. "Is that the Snape boy? What is he doing here?"

The youth looked beyond the dark wizard to his older self. Their eyes met, and Severus could feel the professor practically draw him into his mind. The boy initiated Legilimency, and images flickered in his head, almost too fast to catch, of young Severus bowing to Voldemort and denouncing Professor Snape. Severus withdrew with an almost imperceptible nod. He knew what he must do. "My Lord!" he exclaimed, trying to fall to his knees. He glared angrily at his captor. "Have you no regard for the Great One? How dare you keep me from showing him the respect that he deserves; nay, demands?" The blond blinked stupidly. He had no idea how to react to such a statement.

"Hmmmm," the dark wizard mused, his snakelike features crinkling in an expression of curiosity. "You seem quite eager to pay homage to me. But that garbage over there," he gestured to the slightly twitching body, "also wore the face of a loyal follower. Forgive me if I am slightly skeptical."

At his master's gesture, the Death Eater released Severus, who bowed low. "I praise your wisdom, My Lord, and am elated to be in your presence at last." He threw a filthy look toward the heap of a man in the shadows. "My older self is an absolute fool. He has let Dumbledork warp his mind with his overblown notions of Muggle-love and equality." A wave of hilarity broke out at the insult. Voldemort seemed particularly amused. "I confess that I was saving the news of his treachery until our meeting. I had hoped that it would give me leverage in your ranks. But I should have realized that our Lord knows all."

The gathered crowed looked from one Snape to another in disbelief. Had the boy really been prepared to sell out his older self?

"So you say," the Dark Lord said carelessly, "but fine words are worth less than the air that breathes them." He lunged forward and seized the boy's chin with his hand, peering deep into his eyes. Severus was ready for him, locking the innermost part of his mind tight while the images of his choosing surged through the forefront. Every bitter and angry thought churned through his mind: humiliation as he was hung upside down near the lake, his robes falling around his head and exposing his underwear – his face frozen in a mask of terror as a werewolf, saliva dripping from its sharp fangs, lunged toward him – his body trembling with barely-restrained fury as Dumbledore calmly awarded points to James for the rescue and in the same breath forbade Severus to reveal Lupin's secrets – himself reading under the sheets by wandlight, devouring books on the Dark Arts with a burning desire to know all its secrets – his cursed Muggle father whipping him with a metal belt buckle as his mother wept and he ground his teeth, wishing he was of age with his own wand so he could hex the man's face clear off – overlying everything was an intense emotion of HATE HATE HATE and the fierce yearning for revenge against all who had wronged him.

Voldemort drew back and laughed. "Now *that* is the Severus Snape that I used to know, with fire in his belly and hate in his heart! Very well; there is still a place in the Death Eaters for you. But you must perform one more task to prove your loyalty. Kill that filth over there." He jerked his head toward Snape's battered body.

The Potions master stared at him, his black eyes like tunnels. Severus stared back. The man was willing him to do it, to just forget what he said earlier about dying instead of joining the Death Eaters, to do anything necessary to survive this night alive; Snape was as good as dead anyway, and at this point dying would be a relief. He would be glad to die if it kept the boy safe. Severus slowly raised his wand. He couldn't do it… there was no *way* he could do it… but he couldn't let the Dark Lord know that, and all he had to do was wait another few minutes but he didn't *have* another few minutes, and dammitall what was *taking* them so long?

He breathed a silent sigh of relief as an explosion of cracks and pops sounded all around them. The cavalry had arrived. About bloody time.

Harry was immediately surrounded by Order members, who roughly pulled him away from his captors. The Death Eaters who held Ron and Hermione immediately found themselves at the business end of Order wands, and they dropped their prisoners to draw their own weapons. The grounds were suddenly ablaze with multicolored jets of light as the combatants began to do battle.

"Nooooo!" Voldemort screamed as curses whizzed over his head. "I will not be denied victory! Who lead them here? WHO?"

"I don't know, my Lord!" Blondie stammered. "They couldn't have traced our Apparition; such a thing is simply not possible!"

"The Trace!" Bellatrix yelled. Good god, her looks had gone to rot. "Potty is not of age; he still has the Trace about him!"

"Fool!" Voldemort yelled, and his most faithful follower cringed. "Potter did not do magic! He was not the one to Apparate; the Trace would not have given him away! Besides, I *own* the Ministry and the trackers! No one so much as sneezes without my express permission!"

The enraged wizard narrowed his red eyes. "You!" he roared, seizing Severus by the arm. "You must have lead them here!" He cast his wand quickly over the boy's body and cursed at his findings. "It was you! You have a tracking charm!"

Severus could not stop a flicker of fear from crossing his face. "A thousand apologies, my Lord!" he gasped. "They never trusted me; my every move was watched! I tried to come to you one day, but they trapped me! Some of them are trusting fools, but others are not nearly as softhearted. They must have guessed my plans!"

Voldemort sneered. "Again with your pretty words. You have the gift of gab, Snape. Your sharp tongue and mind have kept you and the professor out of trouble for many years. But this time your luck has run out. Priori Incantatem!" The air around Snape's wand shimmered, revealing that the tracking charm had been cast with his own wand.

"So," the Dark Lord hissed, pointing his wand at the boy's chest, "you have followed in the steps of Snape after all. Both of you are two-faced vipers. What have you to say for yourself now?"

Severus' expression became eerily calm. "Congratulations. It's only taken you about twenty years to realize. Either you are really slow on the uptake, or we are just that good."

The elder Snape stifled a groan of despair. His eyes pleaded with the boy to flee, to Apparate while he had a chance. But with Voldemort's wand leveled at him, Severus would be dead before he could so much as twitch. Damn the Order! They were spending so much time fighting Death Eaters and protecting the other children that they didn't spare the Slytherin so much as a glance. They probably assumed that the boy was one of them. Stupid! Didn't they *realize* who had lead them there in the first place? Why didn't they *listen* to what was going on around them? If only he wasn't so weak!

"Silence!" Voldemort roared as his face contorted in rage. "I will not tolerate insolence! Either you are with us or against us. Choose!"

The boy laughed bitterly. "Please! As if you'd ever trust me now. You'll execute me no matter what my choice is. The professor is right; it's better to be dead than to serve you. You've disgraced the name of Slytherin and thrown shame upon our entire House. You can kill me if you like, but you'll never change how I feel."

"That can be arranged!" he screamed. "Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light flew from the tip of Voldemort's wand and struck Severus full in the chest. His body fell backward gracefully, seemingly in slow motion, until he hit the ground with a soft thud. His fathomless eyes stared vacantly at the sky.

Sudden silence reigned. The absence of curses and hexes was deafening. The Order and Death Eaters alike ceased their combat as they all stared dumbly at the lifeless body. Both sides seemed absolutely gobsmacked at the murder of a boy who had seemed destined to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Snape's Slytherin dorm mates looked absolutely sickened. The elder Snape could scarcely breathe for shock and grief. Hermione screamed and burst into tears. Ron's jaw worked but no sound came out. Harry let out a yell that seemed to echo from the bottom of his soul and lunged into the fray, attacking the nearest Death Eater.

"You killed him!" Draco exclaimed. Lucius turned deathly pale and clutched his son's shoulder convulsively, but apparently the murder had perversely brought calm to the dark wizard. Rather than chastise Draco, Voldemort looked pleased.

"So I did!" he agreed almost cheerfully, fending off a few hexes that flew his way. "No big loss. He was a filthy half-blood anyway."

"So what does that make you?" Harry cried, drawing attention to the argument. "Your father was a Muggle! If Muggle blood is dirty, then you're as contaminated as anyone else!"

"Lies!" Bellatrix shrieked and lunged toward the Gryffindor.

"NO, Bella! He's MINE!" Voldemort roared, bringing his wand down in a slicing arc. A burst of red light threw her to the ground, where she lay immobile.

"Thanks!" Harry jeered. "You're doing our job for us. Why don't you hex a few more followers while you're at it?"

"Stupid boy!" the wounded professor hissed from the shadows. Severus had gotten himself killed for his cheek, and now Potter would be next. He glared at his shackles, which had chafed his wrists and ankles raw. He had never felt so useless in his life!

Just then the air shimmered before his eyes, and two small items appeared. He blinked a few times in disbelief. Surely he was hallucinating. He reached out with one manacled hand and touched the objects. No one would have thought twice about them, but to him they meant survival. The first item was his wand; its importance was obvious. The second item – a black button ripped from his throat-to-ankle concealing robes – seemed worthless. But obviously someone had learned its secret and given it to him as a means of deliverance. His eyes darted around the warring crowd, but no one was paying him the slightest bit of attention. His savior's identity remained a mystery.

"Potter!" he wheezed, cursing the weakness of his voice. Even if he had been in full form, it would be difficult to make even his imposing voice carry over the sounds of battle. He had to get Potter's attention, had to get him to safety. "Accio Potter!" he muttered, and to the boy's astonishment, he felt himself abruptly jerked backward to land awkwardly by the professor's side.

"Professor Snape!" the brat exclaimed as he got a close look at the wreck of the proud man's body. "Oh my god, you're—"

"Silence!" he snarled with as much vehemence as he could muster, wincing at the sharp twinge from broken ribs. From his shortness of breath, he feared that one was pressing on his lungs. "Here, this is a Portkey." He held the button aloft. "It will take us to safety!"

"No!" the boy exclaimed with his usual impudence. "I won't leave Ron and Hermione! They're only here because of me!"

"Do not argue! The Order will see them to safety. But if you fall, the sacrifice of all who have died will be for nothing!" The latest death hung like a heavy weight on them both. He wanted to say more, but his breath was taken by a painful coughing fit. A froth of blood formed around his mouth.

"Professor!" Harry exclaimed anxiously. "You're hurt! We've got to get you to Saint Mungo's!"

"The Portkey!" Snape insisted. "It is the only safety we can be sure of."

Harry glanced toward the body of the young Slytherin, who stared sightlessly at the sky, seemingly in defiance of the combatants around him. "I hate to leave him," he whispered.

"He's gone," Snape said harshly, but the words seemed to hurt him nonetheless. "There's nothing more we can do for him." He held out his hand, the button cradled in his palm. Harry folded his hand over it. With a rough tap of the professor's wand, the Portkey was activated, and with a sharp tug behind their navels, they were whisked away.

Several combatants witnessed their departure and were thrown into a frenzy. Voldemort was enraged at loss of his captive and his mortal enemy, who had been abruptly snatched from his grasp in one fell swoop. Several Order members were on the verge of panic, not knowing for sure what had happened to their Chosen One. Their fears were quelled when a shimmering phoenix Patronus appeared in their midst. Harry and Snape had arrived safe and sound in the Headmaster's office, it announced in Dumbledore's voice, then faded away as abruptly as it had appeared. Harry had been whisked away to Grimmauld Place, while Snape had been rushed to St. Mungo's. The Portkey had considerably worsened the man's internal injuries, and the mediwizards feared that he would not last the night.

"Harry is safe!" Lupin exclaimed, grabbing Ron by the arm. "I'll get his friends to safety."

"Don't worry about me, Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "I can Apparate myself." Once the young adults were safely away, the Order unleashed another wave of attack with intense ferocity. They fought just long enough to force the Death Eaters back, and then they left to tend to their wounded. Kingsley and Lupin, who had returned to the battle, bundled up the deceased Slytherin with gentle hands and spirited away his body for an honorable burial. Dumbledore feared for the safety of the surviving Snape, who was clinging to life by a thread at the wizard hospital. Recalling all too well what had happened to Bode and the Devil's Snare, several Order members volunteered to keep a rotating watch over the fallen professor.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The next few days passed in a haze. There were happy occasions – Harry's coming-of-age and the marriage of Bill and Fleur, but they were snatched moments during a time of fear and sorrow. Even those who had not liked the young Slytherin seemed stunned by his pointless death. There was considerable guilt over the elder Snape's precarious condition as well – many had been ready to write him off as a traitor, while the professor had protected the Order's secrets while enduring continued torture to the brink of death.

The organizers of the funeral for young Severus had wanted to delay the ceremony until Professor Snape was well enough to attend, but they decided that they could not afford to wait. It was unclear if the professor would survive his wounds, and they could not postpone the funeral indefinitely. They only hoped that they would not end up burying both Snapes.

Dumbledore had wondered why the young man's body did not simply disappear or discorporate after his death. His best guess, Slughorn told him, was that the boy was killed while his body was still in the very early stages of destabilization. For this reason, his body behaved much like a normal one and remained intact after death.

The day of the funeral dawned warm but cloudy, as if in deference to the somber occasion. The crowd of mourners was small but seemed genuinely grieved by the boy's passing. Harry spotted Parkinson and Bulstrode huddled together, weeping miserably. He had made a point of attending with his friends, despite the danger of exposing himself. He was not worried, for many Order members were in attendance, and Snape's funeral seemed a less likely target than Mad-Eye's funeral had been. He suspected that the number of attendees would have been higher; only some of them feared retribution for their attendance, either from the Order or from Voldemort.

Hermione sobbed as the coffin was levitated into its resting place. Ron looked pale and could only pat her shoulder awkwardly. Harry felt his heart sink as he turned away, seeking a small pocket of isolation in the milling crowd. How many more funerals would be held until the Dark Lord was stopped for good?

A hooded figure approached him. Harry instinctively reached for his wand, but the person pushed the hood back just enough to briefly show his face. "Nott!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Shh!" the Slytherin hissed. "I don't want anyone else to know I'm here. Draco desperately wanted to come but he didn't dare. The Dark Lord is angry enough at his family as it is. Please, we're desperate to know. How is Professor Snape doing?"

Harry looked grave. "Not well enough. He's out of immediate danger, but he could still very well die from his injuries. I didn't understand the medical jargon, but I do know he's got an irregular heartbeat from continued applications of the Cruciatus, plus he's got some kind of blood poisoning or infection, a number of broken bones and possibly some lacerated internal organs. Hermione could probably explain it a lot better."

"That's all right," Nott said hastily, "the less people that know of my presence, the better. I just wanted to let you know that the sacrifices of both Snapes won't be in vain. After seeing what happened to them, none of his students want to join the Dark Lord. Poor Draco's pretty much trapped, but my father and I are leaving the country as soon as I'm done talking to you; and if Crabbe and Goyle possess a single ounce of sense, their families will do the same thing."

"Good luck," Harry said solemnly, holding out his hand. Theo Nott clasped it firmly.

"Thanks. I'm sure we'll need it. And if the Professor recovers, please send him our regards."


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Shacklebolt looked up from his newspaper as Dumbledore entered the hospital room in St. Mungo's. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he noticed that the Headmaster was accompanied by a thin woman with dark hair, thick eyebrows and a scowling countenance. "Come, Kingsley," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Let us see if the tea in the cafeteria is still as abominable as I recall." The Order members had taken turns watching over Snape – St. Mungo's had proven to be less than secure on several occasions and they did not want the recently-outed spy to come to harm.

Snape had been taken off of the critical list. The man had regained consciousness but now slept most of the time and barely seemed able to growl at his babysitters. It was quite worrying.

The Auror looked at the dozing figure on the bed, then carefully eyed the woman. They had been ordered to not leave Snape's side for *any* reason – even if the man was to be stripped and given a sponge bath. That had certainly made for some awkward moments! But if Dumbledore thought this woman could be trusted, then Kingsley had no doubts. They filed out of the room, leaving the woman alone with the wounded man.

Once the door had closed, the woman gently lifted Snape's head and placed it on her bosom. She stroked his hair, smoothing it behind her ears. His lashes fluttered as his eyes struggled to open. He gazed at her blearily, and she offered a tremulous smile in return. "Mum?" he whispered hoarsely, sounding incredulous. She squeezed his hand as he trembled in her arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "So sorry. Please forgive me." There was a lot more to be said, but it would keep. For now it was enough just to be together.


	29. Epilogue

Epilogue

Arthur heaved a sigh of relief as he headed into a thick wooded area. The extra Ministry raids to confiscate enchanted or cursed objects had given him a lot of overtime lately, but he'd take time with his family any day. He was the last one to leave the latest house, verifying that its contents had been properly catalogued and taken away to the Ministry for safekeeping.

Although the house was owned by a wizard, he was in a Muggle neighborhood and wanted to make sure that he was quite alone before Apparating home. It was pitch-black and only the tip of his wand lit the way.

"Weasley!" a voice called. "Weasley, I must speak to you!"

Arthur whirled just as the moon broke from its cloud cover. The light glimmered off of a cascade of white-blond hair. "Malfoy!" the redhead snarled, lunging to point his wand at the other wizard's throat. To his surprise, instead of fighting back, Malfoy dropped his walking stick. Arthur knew very well that Malfoy's wand was concealed within.

"Calm down, Weasley! I did not come to fight. I am alone and disarmed. You must listen; I have something important to give you."

Arthur studied the other man critically. Lucius Malfoy still dressed and spoke like an aristocrat, but he was thin and haggard-looking from his stint in Azkaban. But the most striking change was in his demeanor. Arthur was more than familiar with Malfoy's snobbish and superior airs, but there was no hint of his arrogance or taunting tonight. Frankly, the man looked terrified. Not of Arthur, surely. But of what? Or whom?

Malfoy's grey eyes were wide, and his breath came in short pants. He swallowed hard. "In my pocket… I have something of value to the Order. Take it!"

"I warn you, Malfoy, if this is a trick…."

"No tricks!" The man was nearly frantic. "I swear it on my family name! Take it quickly, before they realize I am gone!"

"Accio!" A small object rose out of Malfoy's pocket. Arthur directed it to the ground and then removed the miniaturizing spell. It was a small golden cup with two handles. The most noticeable feature was the engraved image of a badger. "So what's this then? Will it burn my hand off if I touch it?"

"No, it is safe to touch. I have held it myself. Although there is something about it that gives me the creeps, so I would not advise handling it longer than necessary."

Weasley eyed him suspiciously. "You are a slippery one, Malfoy. Very sneaky of you, trying to get me to let you touch the object. It's probably a weapon that you'd use against me."

"See reason, Weasley!" Lucius snarled. "If it was a weapon, I would have used it on you before you knew what hit you. To be honest, I don't know exactly what it does, beyond the obvious. But it's important."

"No matter. I will summon someone with a vast knowledge of Dark objects. He will be most interested in examining this artifact and speaking with a renowned Death Eater." Ever cautious, Arthur cast a binding spell on Lucius before removing his wand from the man's throat. A silver weasel burst from the wand's end, running through the woods until it abruptly disappeared from view. Malfoy concentrated on not fidgeting. A scant few minutes later, the loud *crack* of Apparition heralded the appearance of Albus Dumbledore.

"So, Lucius," Albus said casually, as if they were all good friends gathered in a comfortable parlour, "Arthur tells me that you have something to give the Order."

"Yes, yes!" Lucius nodded vigorously. Under other circumstances it would have been funny. "Thank the heavens you're here. Perhaps you'll see reason. The item is right over there."

"Be careful, Albus!" Arthur warned. "You never know what sort of hexes he might have cast."

Dumbledore walked around the object cautiously, waving his wand above it. "There is no need to fear, Arthur. The cup is indeed dangerous, but not from anything that Lucius has done." He confidently grasped the cup by one of its handles, ignoring Weasley's gasp. "Amazing," the elderly wizard murmured, studying the cup's fine lines in the moonlight.

"You know what it is, don't you?" Malfoy asked. "Is it something that will help the Order?"

"You brought it to us without knowing what it is? Quite curious." Albus gazed at the Death Eater over his half-moon spectacles.

"I don't know what it is, but I do know that the Dark Lo…You-Know-Who values it greatly. He asked Bella to hide it away in her Gringotts vault for safe-keeping. I've modified her memory so she thinks that the cup is safely put away. If he discovers what I've done, I will suffer a fate worse than death."

Dumbledore looked solemn. "This cup is indeed highly valued by Voldemort." Both Weasley and Malfoy winced at the name. "He would not hesitate to sacrifice the lives of his followers if it would keep this object safe." With a quick flick of his wand, the restraining bonds disappeared. Malfoy rubbed his arms, trying to ease the discomfort. "Tell me, Lucius. Why have you taken such a great risk to bring it into our possession?"

The Malfoy patriarch looked even more nervous, his eyes darting around the forest, as if expecting his fellow Death Eaters to jump out at any second. "For much of my life, I have served the Dark Lord and was proud to do so. However, things have not been going so well for my family as of late. Our Lord is very displeased with me due to the loss of the Prophesy and my capture at the Ministry. Severus' treachery has only served to further inflame him. Since I was the one to recruit him to our cause, he blames his defection on me as well. He has taken over my house and addresses me with nothing but contempt. Worse of all," he shuddered, "I overheard the Dark Lord speaking with Wormtail. He is planning some impossibly difficult task for Draco. He is setting Draco up to fail simply to have an excuse to punish him, and through him me. Narcissa is sick with worry. The Malfoy name is as old as Wizardkind." Arthur doubted this, but he would let the man have his pride. "I joined the Dark Lord to fight what I saw as subjugation against wizards, but now he is the one oppressing my kin. It is not to be borne."

Dumbledore stared at him, and Lucius suddenly felt naked. He recognized the whisper of Legilimency in his mind, but it was quite different from the way that the Dark Lord wielded it. He had never bothered to learn Occlumency, feeling that he had nothing to hide, but it was always disconcerting to have someone rifling through his thoughts.

"You helped Severus escape."

"Yes." Malfoy's throat was dry, and the word came out as a rasp.

"Why?"

Lucius shook his head. "For the reasons I've already named, I suppose. Our Lord's return has been much less glorious than I had hoped. Plus Severus is important to me. We have been close for quite some time – although perhaps not quite as close as I thought if he was able to keep his true allegiance a secret. I did suspect that something was wrong, since occasionally he'd get a tortured look on his face, or seem to want to tell me something. Something in me just couldn't leave him to suffer at the Dark Lord's hands. And then there was the boy. He should never have killed the boy. That, I suppose, is what truly opened my eyes."

Dumbledore gave him a sharp look. "And if you had known about Severus' treachery ahead of time? What would you have done then?"

Lucius sighed. "I don't know. If it had been anyone else, I would not have hesitated to turn them in. But Severus has always been different. I'm sure you recall how I looked out for him when I was a prefect, so I've come to feel very protective toward him. Old habits die hard, I suppose." His brow creased. "Is he all right?"

"Severus is recovering. I'm certain he will be most interested in tonight's events. But the night is not yet over, and there may still be more surprises in store. You say you are dissatisfied with Voldemort's treatment of your family. You have brought me an invaluable object to use against him. It would seem that your feelings toward the Death Eaters have changed. But have you thought beyond tonight? What will you do next, Lucius? Will you go back to Voldemort, cursing his treatment but observing passively? Or will you take action to save those that you love? What will you do to protect them?"

The grey eyes widened with realization. Albus and Arthur both watched in silence. They could practically see the thoughts whirling in Malfoy's head. Then he straightened up, standing at attention, his chin lifted defiantly. "Anything. You need a spy, now that Severus has been compromised. I will take his place. Let me take the Unbreakable Vow, and I will do everything in my power to bring the Dark Lord down."

Arthur served as witness as the Vow was made. That night, the Order welcomed its newest member.


End file.
